#and the sun peeks in / like a killer through the curtains | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

silv3rswirls · 3 months

Text

Hound

Summary: What did a suffering lamb even accomplish? Who did it save, when would it end?

Warnings: serial killer/yandere jk, kidnapping, stalking, references to death, suggestive scenes, delusions, religious themes/trauma, minor description of sick/rotting bodies/animals, murder, reader goes on a weird little adventure with killer jk?? She dies at the end

Note: idk I kind of lost the original plot of this one and this is what it turned out to be. Please mind the warnings and as always, hope ya’ll like it. ALSO, I didn't have it in me to edit this, so mind that. I might come back to this

There’s something in the corner; watching. It’s been there so long, you couldn’t remember when it invited itself in. It’s starving and sickly, black fur clinging to bones and eyes droopy and white. You stopped feeding it a long time ago, but still, it lingers. In every facet of your life, it lingers. You’ve lived like this for so many years, have you always lived like this?

What time was it?

Your eyes shifted from their fixed position on the wall to the clock, passing over the thin, gold cross mounted just beside it. Your eyes strained to read it against your bedroom's dark wood panels and dim, ugly yellow light. Whatever time it was, you knew it was time to get out of bed and start dinner before your husband got home from work. You make your way to the kitchen, the house dims now that the sun has set. You avoid flicking many lights on, it’ll save money your husband insisted. You hated fumbling around a dark house but had given up arguing with him a long time ago.

You peek through the sheer curtains, the sink running and steaming water burning your hands as you finish that morning's dishes. It was dark, and windy as the tree in your front yard shook and branches brushed against the roof. It was the cusp of winter, very cold but snow hadn’t started to fall yet. The neighborhood was quiet, street lamps harsh against the dark backdrop of houses. You stare hard outside, it's there. Standing there, watching you. That sick dog, with hackles raised and tongue hanging from its mouth.

The curtains fall back into place as you turn the water off and dry your hands. You pass the phone, that’s been ringing for the past five minutes. You don’t answer because it's just your parents again, all they wanted was to guilt you into going to church with them on Sunday morning. They went every day, once upon a time you had gone as well, but now you could only stand to give them Sundays. Last week you had pretended to be sick to get out of it, your husband went along and you were sure he spent most of the day badmouthing and complaining about you not coming.

The last time you found yourself in a church you were standing at an altar listening to a man feed the room empty vows. You stood stiff, draped in satin, with eyes downcast. This is what everyone wanted; this is what you wanted. What a waste, as he fumbled the paper with his crudely written vows. What a waste of a man who couldn’t memorize a few short promises. What a waste of a man who couldn’t stand there and pretend to be in love with you, to dare to call himself righteous, the perfect match to keep their daughter in line with a faith you had stopped believing years ago.

You didn’t want to get married. You had stopped liking the fantasy of having a husband years ago, and around the same time, you began to feel a sour taste over your parents' religion. What happened to you? What happened to our beautiful girl? They would ask, more so plead with you for answers. Truthfully, you had stopped believing in god. It was restricting; days to weeks to months to years. It was always the same. The same scripture, the same ravings of the pastor that drove such fear of doing anything wrong into you, leaving holes in your body that oozed with guilt and shame; you didn’t know why.

You had begged god to save you, even after all the terrible things he must’ve seen you do. Still, on the morning of your wedding and every day after that, you begged. Knelt until your knees were raw and aching, your hands clasped so tight until your nails pricked your aching skin and drew blood. You begged, for something, anything, you weren’t even sure what anymore. But nothing ever changed. When would god find time for you again? You live, you do as you’re told. You do everything you’re supposed to, and yet nothing. You live how you’re told. You grow, you work, you’re a wife. You follow and you ignore the hound scratching at your walls. You’ll die soon, you can feel it. When will he come back to you?

That night you refused to go inside, letting your feet go numb buried in snow in the backyard. Looking into the treeline, you’d rather be fed by the creatures lurking there than by some angry boy playing dog inside. You wanted to hurt him, for him to feel how you had the past year. He didn’t think you could, but you wanted to show him you would.

But when you looked down at your trembling hands, stiff and half frozen from the cold, you knew there was no way you could show him. How you felt and how you acted were two different things; forever separate as much as you wanted them to be the same. You could talk a big game, think about how so badly you wanted to hurt him, and that was all. It had to keep being enough.

Something in you wanted more, so much more. You could rest because of it. You had stopped fighting your parents now, you were hoping things could change. Maybe you’d find peace again, though you weren’t sure how. You grew weary, tired of hating god and resenting your parents. You wanted so badly to be separate from it all. To no longer have a feeling of guilt hounding you. To no longer hate the church and everyone in it, the teachings and echoes of preaching lingering in your mind. The years you lost there; lost to fear and manipulation. How you hadn’t been able to enjoy a single thing in your adolescence. How after your first kiss you had gone home and sobbed until throwing up. As you were on your knees cleaning it up, trying to hush your cries to not wake your parents, you closed your eyes and pleaded between gasps and hiccups for god not to hate you. How you trembled and sat there until your skin was rubbed raw against the carpet,

You sighed, rubbing a hand over your face and looking around the dark living room from the kitchen. You felt like you could see it; that creature lying on the sofa staring at you. Mouth parted, teeth pointed, its soul-bearing into your own. You turned away with the familiar feeling of guilt washing over your body. Your gaze rested on the floor, but the faint outline of shoes made your brow furrow; your husband wasn’t due home for another hour. Very slowly you pick your gaze up to see the man standing in the hall. Faint light from the open backdoor pooled in behind him. You stared at the young man longer than probably should have. Maybe you should've screamed sooner and ran before he got that close to you but you had frozen in place.

Break-ins didn’t happen around your neighborhood, let alone kidnappings.

What horrible luck that you’d be the first?

What had you done? What had you done to deserve this?

He carried you out of your house, but still, you couldn’t bring it in you to scream for help. You wondered deep down if anyone would help you. He puts you in the back of his car and drives, the windows down and bitter cold pouring in. You’re lying in the backseat, wrists bound tight. He’d been eerily silent through this whole ordeal.

“How come you haven’t begged me not to kill you yet?” He asked, looking back at you. His voice came jumbling from his mouth fast, a bit irritated. Like he had been frustrated with your lack of struggle.

“Were you going to kill me?” Your skin crawls with goosebumps from the cold.

He pauses and stares at you, “Do you want me to kill you?” He turns back to watch the road, neither of you answering his question. A long stretch of silence follows, he doesn’t look at you again, not even a glance from the mirror. “I’ve been watching you for a long time. I’m going to give you what you want, and then I’m going to kill you.”

You’re throat dries and your face pales. “You don’t know what I want.” Watching you? You felt an uneasiness come over you as you thought back to what you had done the past few weeks. Nothing to be honest. You had barely left the house. You imagined him peeking through windows, hiding in the yard, and watching you collect groceries and throw the trash away. Had he been in your house before? You look at him, he didn’t seem familiar at all. You’d never seen him around before.

He dragged you from the car, you didn’t struggle but you remained limp, dead weight for him as he covered your eyes and drug you inside. When inside you feel his boot on you, pressing into your shoulder. Pressing into you, your eyes trail over the shine of leather and then up to him. He was standing above you. Taller, stronger, better than you; that's what he wanted right? You’d stare at him, was this what you wanted?

The house was messy, recently abandoned you assumed. It was clear he had been holding up here for a while. He shoved you on the ground, circling around you as you looked up at him. “What are you going to do?” You ask.

“Gonna kill you.” He admitted earnestly. “I know you, I’ve been watching you for a long time- really, I’m just helping you.”

Was he your savior? Was he doing you a favor? Would he do to you what you had never been brave enough to do yourself? Is this what you truly were? An animal built to serve? To be depraved, to crawl across glass and pour blood for someone like him?

“But I…I don’t want to die.” He gives you this pitiful look; his lips pout and his eyes soften for a moment. As if telling you you didn’t know what you were talking about, and how pitiful it was you couldn’t accept it. “What’s your name?” You ask, feeling silly for being hopeful you might be able to get any information out of him. “Jungkook.” You lower your head, wondering if trying to collect any information for authorities was even worth it. Everything about this man was intimidating. He was larger and stronger, it didn’t matter if you fought or not he could drag you around like a ragdoll all he wanted.

Jungkook gets up and walks around the living room, rummaging through piles of what you assumed were his things. “I’ve been watching you for over a year now.” He admits, “Since you went on vacation for your friend's birthday. You were so drunk at that bar, I was going to kill you then, but something told me not to.” He turns back to you with a small bound notebook in hand. “So I followed you back here and got to know you more. Imagine my shock when I realized you were getting married. Was that trip your last night of freedom, is that why you got so messy?” You stare up at him, unsure of what to say. Yes, it was your last night. You came home and your parents pushed you into marriage sooner because of it. He hands you to the notebook, urging you to open it. “I’ve been watching you since. Your life turned out to be so interesting, I couldn’t just kill you after everything.”

You flip through the pages slowly. Pictures of you and your family. Pictures of you at the altar. Scribbled paragraphs about things he heard others say about you, quotes of things you were sure you had said. Notes and bullet points of every piece of information he got. “So, what do you want to do first?”

“Can I take a bath?” You ask, mind going a bit blank and voice flat as you set the notebook down and try to take it all in.

He let you. The water was hot and steaming when he pushed you in and closed the door. No windows, no way to get out. You settle into the water, the sweat from stress and anxiety washing off as you try and fail to relax. Could you be forgiven for things not of your control? You sink further into the water. You could hear him outside in the hall pacing. His steps were heavy and loud, ringing in your ears as you stared up at the night, fluorescent bathroom light. They did this to you, they all did this to you. Why were you being punished? Why had Jungkook laid eyes on the most pitiful woman in town and decided it was to be her? You thought about your wedding day, and your husband back home. Maybe if you had just settled, stayed with them, and did your duty as a wife Jungkook wouldn’t have stumbled into your life. Yes. you should have wanted less, you decide. Because it seems Jungkook was ready to give it all to you.

You raise your hands out of the water, the deep imprints of the zip ties he had kept you bound with were still there. Angry and a pale red color. The bathwater around you, swirling unpleasantly around you. The hot, humid air inside the bathroom, the hum of the lights, and the moths flying around them.

You felt rotten like your teeth were falling out, hanging just barely to your gums. Truly, you felt disgusting.

Jungkook is in the hall waiting when you finally get out. You looked up at him and saw nothing. No starving dog trying to pretend. No confusion, or games, or lies. He knew what he wanted to be and he was exactly that. He wasn’t lying, pretending, or trying to make you believe his actions were right. He said it outright; he wanted to kill you. He was going to kill you.

“I want my wedding dress” you slowly say.

“You don’t like the one you wore at your wedding, you cried the day you tried it on.” Jungkook glances at you, watching you silently agree with him.

“So you won't get it for me?”

“Don’t you want more?” He asks, “I’ll get you a new dress, whatever one you want.”

Jungkook stares at you the same way the beast that lingered in the corners of your house did. An eager stare, unrelenting, you couldn’t move out of its sight. “I just want that dress.” You repeat, clasping your hands together and pursing your lips, “You said I could have whatever I wanted…”

A smile stretched his lips, “I’ll get it for you.”

You lay down on the floor of the backseat of the car. Your hands are zip-tied again, and you can’t see Jungkook from your position. What an odd turn of events to say the least…you had fully expected to die the moment he dragged you out of the car and into that house, but now you could see faint glimpses of familiar landmarks leading to your neighborhood from what you can make out from the window. You think about the day of your wedding, and the events that even led up to your parents making a match for you and pushing for it so hard. Despite how vocal you had been about your unhappiness with everything about your childhood, how much you never wanted to step food into their church again; they held a firm belief that you’d come crawling back. If they shamed and argued and pushed enough you’d come back.

For as much hate you felt, twice the amount of guilt weighed you down. After a while, it all became so hopeless. It was exhausting. It made you sick, you couldn’t do anything without guilt nipping your heels, chasing you down until you drowned in it. You couldn’t live, so you came home. Let them talk you into marriage because it would fix everything, they insisted. You just needed a husband, the stability of it, someone to care about other than yourself. Have a few kids and you’ll start walking the right path again.

You waited, but it never came. You never felt better about any of your choices. Deep down you had known you wouldn’t, but you had spent so much of your life blind. Going back to it didn’t help, it wasn’t even familiar anymore. Nothing ever changed. When will God find time for you again? You live, you do as you’re told. You do everything you’re supposed to, and yet nothing. You live how you’re told. You grow, you work, you’re a wife. You follow and you ignore the hound scratching at your walls. You’ll die soon, you can feel it. When will he come back to you?

You weren’t even sure why you wanted that stupid dress. You weren’t sure if you cared what happened to you, or feared what Jungkook was going to do. Maybe it is comforting, in a weird way. No one paid attention to you, no one bothered with you. They wouldn’t until you changed, and deep down you didn’t want to change. But outside of your life now you had no idea what you would do. You never had higher dreams than staying local and marrying within your church growing up. You didn’t even attend college. You never aspired for more, now it felt like it was too late. Jungkook was talking to you from the driver's seat but you couldn’t hear him. Too enveloped in your head to focus on him, he was spouting things he had found about you the last year or so. How he’d never felt a need to stalk the people went after before, let alone this in depth. It was “life-altering” and you were going to be special to him.

The car stops and you feel a weight on your body; the canine-like creature is standing over you. Paws pressing to your stomach and legs, its breath hot, its ears perked up as Jungkook gets out of the car. You feel an immense guilt weighted on you and you consider stopping Jungkook and telling him to just leave and kill you.

You didn’t want this. You did want this. You weren’t sure. Your husband was home, he wasn’t going to just let Jungkook in to take what he wanted.

You lay there for what felt like an eternity until he came back, opening the back door and pulling you out of the car. It’s still dark out, chilly, and unmoving as he hooks his arms under yours and drags you back inside. He sits you down in the entryway and locks the door. You look around. “Where’s-”

“Don’t worry about him.” Jungkook shows your husband's wedding band now on his hand. “Come one” he scoffs, “you knew what I was going to do.”

You stare at him, glance and the very faint outline of the body on your kitchen floor. Had you known? You feel a bit sick, deep down you had hoped for it. He leaves you there to find the wedding dress. Jungkook smiles at you one more time before going towards the back bedroom.

When Jungkook saw you, he had every intention of following you out of that bar to kill you. It was his typical hunting ground. Every few months when the desire struck him again he would wait patiently for the right girl to cross his path. You were hard to ignore that night; annoying, he had half a mind to kill you just to shut you up. But when he followed you outside, watching you slump against the wall and fiddle with your phone he took a moment to watch. Turning away and nursing a cigarette on the opposite side of the entryway.

The way you sniffled and cried on the phone with your mom, asking if there was any other way than to get married. You were too drunk to give him a coherent story of what you were going through, but apparently, you just hated the dress and the groom so much. He crept closer as you hung up, making some lighthearted comment about how rough you looked, and offered you a cigarette.

You talked a bit more about your ass of a fiance and how you felt like you had no other options anymore. He asked where you were from and you told him. He left you there once your friend found you and would see you again a month later. He’d been crammed in his car for days, a map of the town and surrounding forests resting on his steering wheel as he scribbled out the last few leads he had gotten on where exactly you lived. he looked up and there you were, walking with a group of older women into a boutique down the street, exiting with a pretty wrapped box a bit later. He followed you home, and everywhere after that. Watched you walk down the aisle, the wedding open to all members of the church, and allowing him to walk right in. he watched you go home and cry in the backyard, watched you talk your dress off through the window, watched your husband fuck you for the first time. He watched you sit restless every day after that.

Jungkook found your dress backed away in that same ornate gift box on the top shelf of your closet. He smiled and smoothed a hand over the box. All he knew was that he wanted you, wanted to make you happy, and then he wanted to kill you. Put you out of your misery. You’d be better off, he told himself. Clearly, you needed to be saved, so he’d kill for a better reason this time.

You were crying when he came back. Looking up at him with red, water eyes and pressing your lips together to try and keep quiet. Jungkook set the box beside you, kneeling in front of you and tilting his head. But all you can see before you is that beast, sitting with flattened ears and tongue hanging from between rotting teeth. Staring at you with those eyes, like they were reflecting everything upsetting right back to you.

“All this guilt, there’s no use feeling it.”

“I can’t help it.” You choke out. “I can’t stop it, I see it- feel it everywhere.” You rubbed your eyes, looking at Jungkook and trying to stop your trembling bottom lip.

“Crying won’t won’t make things different. Just because you’re guilty won’t make this better. Your guilt won’t purify you.” He clicks his tongue, reaching to push your hair out of your face. “You wanted me to kill your husband, and that’s okay.”

“Thank god, the psycho thinks everything is alright. How comforting.” You weep.

“Stop holding back, come on. You want things to change, doesn’t matter how they change right? You hated him, I heard you say it myself so many times. Say it.”

“I wanted him to die.” You admit quietly. Something in you wanted this to happen. Asking Jungkook to come back here, a part of you knew the possibility. “It’s just not fair. It's not fair. I’ve done nothing but what I’m supposed to do. My whole life, I’ve been trying so hard my whole life to be what I’m supposed to be, but I don’t understand. Everything was supposed to be better, but I hated him. I hated him so much. Then you got here and I…I just wanted to feel all the pain that he’s caused, but I can’t even stomach it. I wanna be cruel, don’t I deserve to? I can’t stop crying though.”

Jungkook coos, pulling you into the chest and wrapping his arms around you. “Baby, there’s nothing wrong with that. That’s why I’m here, I want you to let go, want you to just do what you want. I watch you every day. You’re so miserable, it’s so weird. I felt bad for you.” Jungkook muses, “I’m here for you now baby, we only have a few hours left though.”

“Can I put the dress on?” Your voice was low and tired. Jungkook nodded, shifting over to take the box's lid off and peel back the tissue paper wrapped around your wedding dress. He takes it out, unraveling it carefully as you watch.

Your wedding had been a disaster. You cried through most of it, though no one seemed to care at the time. Your late husband was glad just to have a woman to take home. He wasn’t romantic at all, nothing about him attracted you to him. He was one of the slimier men you had come across in your time in the congregation. He interpreted things how he wanted to, and often reminded you of all the things in your life you had done wrong and had yet to be forgiven for. This was the man your parents hoped to whip you back into shape. It worked in a sense, you supposed. You had been forced to settle. Your hate faded each dull day that passed, you grew weary and unhappier.

The dress was modest. Long-sleeved, high neckline, mane with heavy ugly satin. You put it on there in the hall, feeling too numb to worry about any shame you had in front of Jungkook anymore. He zipped it up for you. Jungkook was kneeling, fixing the skirt, and letting it fluff out. He smooths it down and looks up at you. Despite the heavy eyes and tear-stricken face he smiled, “You look pretty.”

No one told you that on your wedding day, no one told you that the day your mother chose the dress for you. You smiled, feeling a small ounce of joy for the first time tonight. “What do you want to do now?”

You ignore his question, “Is that why you’re doing all of this, are you obsessed with me or something?”

“I guess in some sick way I am.” He wanted to kill you, but at the same time, you were the prettiest girl he’d seen in a long time. Something about the repressed guilt and how you teetered on the edge of breaking completely just got him he supposed. “I watched you the night of your wedding, you were so perfect. Everything was perfect until he came in.” He scowls at the thought, “It’s a shame.”

“Do you want to…” you trailed off, your voice a bit nervous.

Jungkook’s fingers twitch, he's playing with the trim of your skirt. “I do” he murmured, “I’ve thought about you every night since I met you” He raves, “you’re the only one- why? Why do you make me so crazy?” He asks, brushing off any answer you try to give him. “Want you, need you” He breathed, the fabric of your wedding dress bunching up as he pulled at it.

“I can’t-” you grabbed at his hands. You could feel it, the guilt creeping in. Your eyes land on your wedding ring. Torn with morbid want and a last shred of gut-wrenching guilt, you looked into his eyes. Tempting dark pools stare back at you he grabs at your hand. “We’ve come so far already, don’t stop now. Besides” he makes it a point to flash your late husband's wedding band. “I’m your husband now.” you flush, the words twisting in your ears are wrong; everything about tonight was wrong. It felt like a dream more than reality.

“I know you think I’m attractive” he pushes through the layers of the dress, his hands cold as he rests them on your thighs. “It’s so wrong of you baby” he purrs, “you know I’m gonna kill you, but you want me don’t you?”

“I know” you whimper, chest heaving as you watch him. His fingers trace against your skin, his hand moving between your legs.

“When’s the last time your husband touched you?” He asks, “This is what you want, right? You want someone to want you?”

Your fingers twist in his hair, gripping tight as if you were about to fall. Your legs trembled under the weight of guilt and need over what was happening. He was right though, it had been a long time since you felt wanted at all. The moment you had sex the first time those years ago, you knew no one would want you. Not in the church, not here. Impure, a whore. Your mother had even said it when you sobbed and told her.

Your back arches, your thighs tremble, and you let your grip on his hair loosen. You fear toppling over, your breathing a bit ragged. You felt his lips trace your inner thigh, leaving half-hearted kisses and sinking his teeth into your skin.

“You look so pretty in your dress.” Jungkook reappears, kneeling before you a minute longer. Fixing the skirt of the dress, smoothing the fabric down then reaching for your hand. He traces the wedding ring a few times.

“Where do you want me to do it?” Jungkook’s question falls on deaf ears. You’re sitting in the passenger side of his car, still wearing a dress and still trying to steady your pounding heart.

Where did you want to die?

Did you want to die?

You were scared of living as much as dying; but was there anything left for you anyways?

Jungkook you supposed, there was a weird want for him. Maybe it was messed up, he was into you. He took all this time to watch you and wanted you to be happy before you died. You weren’t sure if you were happy.

Before you got out of high school the town church moved to a new building. A bigger, newer, and nicer one. The old one was small, typical of what you would imagine a small, secluded town’s church would look like. He took you there, unprompted. It was fitting maybe. You walked in front of him and listened to Jungkook load the gun and mutter under his breath. Once inside you stand in place, waiting for him to turn and shoot. You look around the familiar space, your stomach turning, memories of the past playing in your mind.

The cross mounted above you is entrancing, draped in sheer black fabric, and its shadowy outline is stark against the moon's light. Your eyes flicker back to Jungkook, who seems to have caught onto your staring and also happens to stand before you draped in the moonlight.

Your last moments would be here. Everything around you felt distorted, and unreal as you looked around another time.

Staining his hands red and tearing into something clean was all he was. All he wanted. You were both ugly in a sense, he was just more open about it. You look up at him. It’s scary now. You had known what was going to happen from the moment he took you. You knew. You knew he wouldn’t give you a happy ending, only give you a temporary release from everything. He killed your husband, it made you happy. He let you prance around in a wedding dress and pretend one last time you could do it all again. He played well with you, you had been able to push aside the dark truth of your situation for a time. But now he was standing before you, reveling in some kind of glory of it all. Did glory taste different to him? You couldn’t imagine- but was letting him kill that man no different than this? In a way, you had killed your husband, was this all some kind of long, drawn-out punishment for that? For lifelong confusion and defiance?

You hoped someone would find you when you were. Find your carcass and see, understand that you had been, still were, always being ripped open. Torn to pieces and dragged to muddy waters, you hoped they’d know you hadn’t been scared, maybe even welcomed it. Let them know this was love; in some twisted way. Love from Jungkook, or god sending him your way. You stopped believing in god a long time ago, grappled with it for so long, but you hoped he had loved you; at least once. Make the struggle worth it, prove you wrong. Or maybe it was love from yourself for closing your eyes and accepting it.

Please, let this be love. Let your body be stained with love for once.

taglist: @aft3rhrs

#bts x reader #bts imagine #yandere bts #yandere jeon jungkook #yandere jungkook #yandere jungkook x reader #yandere jungkook imagine

175 notes · View notes

melrodrigo · 1 year

Text

Daydreaming - T.C.

Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Summary/Sneak peek: It's one of those days again, you and Tara are passed out on her bed; sun beaming through her curtains.

Warnings: Suggestive themes, fluffy fluffy stuff

Word Count: 950

A/N: Have this drabble before this next chapter…y’all need it. This is also partly inspired by ‘Daydreaming’ from Mr.Styles himself.

It's one of those days again, you and Tara are passed out on her bed; sun beaming through her curtains.

The rays frame her face so nicely, complimenting her freckles and making them pop. She doesn't like her freckles, but you absolutely adore them.

It's that type of day where you don't care about how pathetic or lovesick you sound, because she's here with you, in your arms; where she should be.

Nights with Tara were usually very hectic, she was always so pressed and fast and wanting; it's hard to savor the moment. It's also why you treasure the mornings after so much more.

You slip out of her embrace, as softly as you can. She stirs a little bit and you're quick to press a kiss to her forehead and whisper that you'll be right back.

She grumbles a little but loosens her grip on you.

You make your way to the kitchen, humming while slipping on a t-shirt.

Nobody's in the apartment today except for Sam, and you cringe internally at how awkward it's going to be with her today. Sam's starting to warm up to you, you can feel it. It's subtle, but after spending so much time with her sister you're sure you know the signs. They really were similar in many ways.

That didn't change the fact she probably hated you for nailing her sister though.

You let out a little sigh of relief when you see Sam isn't in the kitchen, and get back to your original plan.

Now, you weren't the best cook; but you did decently. It's not Tara's level of cooking, but you could always manage a killer American breakfast.

No wonder they're all overweight, you wonder as you stare at the back of the pancake mix box.

You contemplate making her an actual healthy breakfast like you normally do, but give in to the pancake mix. It was Tara's favorite anyway.

You turn on the speaker, but keep it low enough as to not wake Tara and play a TV Girl song.

Music's always been a sort of coping mechanism of yours. It's nice to just play a song and get lost in the melody, forget your problems and whatever's wrong in the world.

Tara's often made fun of you for it, for always carrying around an extra pair of earphones with you wherever you went.

You sway to the beat now, watching over the pancakes intently; determined to get that perfect brown color.

"Who's gonna kiss the brown hair girls? Who's gonna wipe away their tears?" You sing, grabbing the spatula and bringing it to your mouth.

“Well, I hope it's you, or that's going to be disappointing."

You don't have to turn around to know who it is, you would've recognized her voice from miles away. Soft hands touch your waist, sliding in behind you and peering at you.

You smile, boop her nose with your finger.

"Go back to sleep, I was going to surprise you with breakfast in bed." You tut, trying to shoo her away and back into her room.

She shakes her head against you, "Nuh uh, all you do is surprise me with breakfast in bed. I should be the one cooking for you today. Plus, I don't sleep very well without you anyway."

She says it casually, but it still makes your heart melt.

You and Tara weren't one for words of affirmation, in fact; you both loved to shit on each other. That was your love language.

But the fact that she's willing to admit something like that to you with no second doubt fills your heart with pride. Maybe you are turning her a little soft.

"Okay, come on, come help me decorate these plain ass pancakes." You say, motioning for her to stand beside you at the counter.

She happily obliges, skip in her steps.

You'd arranged some toppings already; powdered sugar, bananas, fresh strawberries.

She immediately reaches for a strawberry, popping it into her mouth before you can scold her. You stare at her pointedly, but all she does is smile cheekily.

“At least cut up the rest of the fruits, I'm almost done with these pancakes." You grumble, turning your attention back to the smiley pancake in front of you.

She nods adamantly, grabbing the cutting board and heeding your instructions. Nobody says a word, and the sound of the music behind you makes you feel like you're in the end credits of a rom-com.

You flip the last pancake right as Tara finishes slicing the strawberries and bananas. You grab three plates, one for Tara, one for you, and one for Sam.

You let Tara decorate her pancake as she pleases, taking a portion of the pancakes and putting them on Sam's plate.

When you turn back to Tara, you're met with the sight of her with her hands up slightly in shock, icing powder falling from her like snow.

You can't help but snort at the look on her face; which was also covered in white icing.

The bag of it's in her hand, looking like it exploded from the seams.

The sound of your laughter breaks Tara from her shock, and she giggles a bit too.

"I look like a snowman!" She exclaims, brushing the substance off her shirt quickly.

"Snowman's are taller than you are." You quip, smirking.

She opens her mouth to reply, no doubt with an annoying jab back at you; but is cut off by lips on hers.

You kiss her tenderly, squeeze her hips slightly.

You pull back, pursing your lips as you bring your pointer finger up; fake thinking.

"Hm....sweet."

#tardy drabble #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega

649 notes · View notes

luceracastro · 4 months

Text

Teacher’s Pet

Part 3

Esteban Kukurickza x reader

Summary: After a few months of starting your literature course you seem to find it harder with time to ignore your professor, little did you know you were driving him crazy as well.

Warnings: nothing much, some knee/thigh touching but it’s all innocent (or that’s what Esteban says🤭)

Masterlist

You felt dead and you didn’t know if dead was even a sufficient word to describe how you really felt in that moment, your head was spinning and pounding, your arms and legs were sore to even move and your back pain was unbearable

Your eyes were swollen and sleepy from the lack of sleep you had been getting as of late and the sun peeking through the crack of the curtain was no help either “carajo” you groaned rolling your body over to your night stand

Now you knew you would take up on Esteban’s offer for the after school hours lecture after putting it off for weeks, you had grabbed you phone opening the email app and you had started a new email, you had reread it and made sure it was professional enough

You had the sent him the email and as soon as you put your phone down you were out like a light.

The next morning you looked over your phone, the day before you had taken the day to take some pain killers, drink tea, sleep and relax yourself which was very much needed but now you sent Esteban a email confirming you could meet up today

He had pitched in the idea to work at a secluded coffee shop where no one really went just so you both could work privately and with no suspicions from students or nosey professors

You had to get yourself together, you smelled like coffee and your hair was a tossed mess so you hopped in the shower, you did your hair, makeup and got dressed. You gathered your stuff and left your small flat locking the door and walking downstairs, you took the bus, it was easier and there was no way in hell you would ever walk

No you didn’t have a car, your dad did try to buy you one but it would just add on to expense and you didn’t really go anywhere except school and a small market right down the street at times the library but the bus was an easy fix for all of that, you had looked through your phone until the bus came to a stop and you stepped off finding the coffee shop down a little ally

After searching up about it, it was supposedly a underground calm little coffee shop with good coffee and treats, you had entered and looked around and there he was sat down looking through his computer and you stood there for a minute looking at him, you then walked over and he looked up a soft smile appearing on his lips as he saw you “hola linda, como te sientes?” He asked and you nodded a soft sigh escaping your lips “bien, mejor, gracias por preguntar” you said

“Si como no, ven sientate aqui” he patted the spot beside him and you nodded sitting beside him, this was the first time you ever were dangerously close to him, your knee touched his and you could feel his breathing against your skin which gave you chills

The lecture was based off of theoretical framework and through the lecture he was attentive in explaining everything and making sure you understood and you both worked on some exercises together which you did great on, your insight on the lecture made him sure that you understood it

Such a smart girl, he thought “quieres ordenar algo?” He asked and you nodded “ahorita nomas ordeno un cafe” you said as you looked over something on your notes “si quieres yo te lo ordeno” he said and you shook your head “no por favor ya no quiero molestarte” you smiled “no es ninguin molestia, tu nunca vas a ser un molestia para mi” he said and you smiled a soft chuckle escaping your lips

“Bueno esta bien, gracias” you thanked him “no hay problema nena” he had gotten up and you looked down working on the last few exercises making sure your work was double checked, “ten linda” you looked up and grabbed a hold of the medium sized coffee cup “gracias” you the realized he paid for your drink, “ten para la cafe” you handed him a five dollar bill since the coffee was only 3$ you saw it on the small menu stuck to the table

He shook his head “no nena esta bien” he wouldn’t accept your money and you gave him a look “por favor, ten” you tried to give him the money and he took it to put it back inside your bag and you gave him a frustrated face which made him chuckle and you couldn’t help but smile “Esteban ten” you tried to give him the money again as you playfully whined

“No, no voy acceptar tu dinero” he shook his head and you rolled your eyes “ahora me siento mal” you said and he shook his head “no nena por que?” You gave him a look “nomas es un cafe de 3$ linda” and you chuckled “ahora tienes que dejar que yo hago algo para ti” you said and he nodded

“Bueno, vamos a comer” he said and you tilted your head, your eyes slightly widening “yo se que no has comido se te ve” he said and you sighed a small smile on your lips “entonces quieres ir a comer?” You asked and he nodded “y que quieres comer?” You asked “te gustan las hamburguesas?” He asked and you nodded “Si” he picked up both of your things

“Bueno vamos nena” he said and you stood up “ahorita?” You asked and he nodded “si, se nota que no has comido, vamos” he didn’t give you room to protest as he already made his way out of the coffee shop and all you could do was follow him

He had been kind to open the car door for you making sure you were inside completely before closing the door, you sighed watching as he went around the car and entered the drivers side “bueno, vamos”

The car ride was calming with some of the night wind seeping through the car windows which were slightly rolled down, the radio which was turned down but loud enough for background noise, “eres muy calladita” he said chuckling a little as you smiled shaking your head

“Bueno la verdad no se que es algo apropiado que puedo hablar de con mi professor” you said looking over at him only to see that his eyes were already focused on you, “lo que sea?” He said shrugging with that same damn dreamy smile on his lips “y si digo algo malo? Mejor no” you giggled “bueno miralo asi, yo te doy la libertad de hablar me como si yo fuera cualquero, ahorita no me tienes que ver como tu profe, vale?”

You looked at him as he looked at you, the moment felt intimate in a way and you could only nod “Vale” you said in a whisper almost “bueno nena, dime” you thought for a moment, what could you even tell him? Your life wasn’t too eventful besides work and school “la verdad es que yo no tengo una vida tan emocionante” you laughed

“Bueno no hay que tener una vida llena de cosas asi, te digo algo, yo casi ni sali de mi cuarto cuando era joven” he said and you chuckled “tenias que haber salido” you said not believing a word he said “no, me la pasaba haciendo tareas, escribiendo, o viendo peliculas” he said and you raised a brown”y que no tenias amigos or una novia?” He nodded “si, si tuve pero nomas hablabamos en la escuela despues de eso era como que si no nos conocieramos” he said

“De verdad?” He then nodded “y tu no tienes tus amigas?” He asked “bueno si pero siempre estoy haciendo mis tareas o trabajando que ya no salgo tanto como antes” you admitted “y novio no tienes?” You looked at him then back at the road shaking your head “no, o sea tuve pero quebramos despues de que el se fue de España” you said

“Y estas bien?” He asked and you nodded “si, si poco a poco” you sighed and felt chills at the feeling of a rough hand resting on your knee, you looked down and saw his hand just on your knee and you watched as it slowly slipped up to sit on your thigh and you looked over at him, he was normal about with a smug smile on his lips while you panicked on the inside

“Bueno aqui estoy por lo que sea” you nodded “gracias” he didn’t move his hand, it’s still there and you weren’t complaining. You both pulled up in front of a small food truck with two fold up tables set up and what not, you were distracted looking at the food truck to even notice Esteban rounding the car to open your door “gracias” you smiled at him as he nodded, you both stared at the menu which made your head hurt, you didn’t know what you wanted

“Ya sabes lo que quieres?” He asked and you looked at him “si, lo que tu ordenes” you said and he chuckled “segura?” He asked and you nodded “bueno” he had ordered for the two of you then led you to sit down, it was getting cold again and you forgot to bring a jacket only having a long sleeved top to protect you

“Tienes frio” it wasn’t a question more like a statement “no estoy bien” you said but the subtle sound of your teeth clattering and your shaking body were a dead giveaway, “mentirosa” he chuckled shrugging off his jacket and holding it for you to slip it on “Y tu?” You asked “yo voy a estar bien nena, ten” he slipped the jacket on to you and sat back down “como sabias que querias ser maestro?” You asked him “Siempre queria ser, aunque no lo crees o no se nota siempre supe que iba ser maestro” he said

“Y tu nena que quieres hacer?” He asked and you thought if you should even tell him or not “autora” you said sipping on the soda he had bought you both “eso si es algo bueno, maravilloso” he said “y yo se que lo vas a lograr, veo los papeles y los trabajos que haces y yo se que vas a ser la mejor autora” he said and it made your heart genuinely happy that he thought that highly of you

“De verdad crees eso?” You asked with a wide smile on your lips “Si como no?” He smiled “eres una buena escritora” he said “gracias, me siento muy feliz a saber que tu piensas eso” he chuckled “nena todos en el colegio sabemos que vamos a ver tu nombre en los libros mas populares en el futuro” he just knew what to say

“Aye ya me vas hacer llorar” you laughed “no no nena” he smiled placing a hand over yours, for a moment your eyes met and it was just you two for a while until the booming voice of the man working the food truck yelled your order and he stood up going to get the food then he came back and sat down, the burgers looked great

“Prueba la” you smiled holding the burger and took a bite, he watched you carefully waiting for what you have to say about the burger “esta buenisimo” you laughed and he smiled “eso esperaba” he said and you laughed as he did too before taking a bite of his burger “de verdad esta hamburguesa es la mas buena que yo habia probado”

“Que bueno nena, sabia que te iba encantar” he said popping a fry into his mouth “y entonces como eras de nene?” You wanted to know more about Esteban, what was he like? What did he enjoy? “Un niño muy differente” he said

“Y como era ese nene differente?” You asked smiling taking another bite of the burger “un niño que se la pasaba afuera jugando fútbol o en casa viendo peliculas” he said making you smile “y como se veìa ese nene?” You asked and he sighed taking out his phone with a little smile as he swiped continuously on his phone

He showed you his phone screen he looked to be a little boy in the picture but he looked like the sweetest boy ever,“aye que lindo” you giggled “hermoso de verdad” you said and he chuckled “gracias nena gracias” he then let you hold his phone as you fawned over the picture “y aver, tu como eras de nena?” He asked and you sighed “una niña que hacia libros con papel y crayolas y le encantaba las caricaturas” you said and he smiled

“Que niña linda entonces” you shook your head smiling, while eating you both continued talking about childhood and more or so his and his teen years which you doubted he had, sometimes you found it hard to believe he once was young

Once you both had finished Esteban was nice to pick up your trash as well as his to throw it out, “nomas pago y nos vamos” and you shook your head giving him some money for you meal “mi parte” you said and he shook his head “perdon nena pero no” you gave him a look “Esteban por favor” you insisted yet he made no move to get the money from your hand

“No” he said once more and you slightly frowned “por favor” he sighed getting the money but what you didn’t see was him tucking it in his pocket and paying for both your meals himself, he thanked the woman then went to get you “vamos” he said and he helped hold your bag, you walked in front of him not seeing him tuck the money you gave him back inside your bag

“Ten linda” he gave you your bag and you thanked him as he carefully closed the door for you, he had driven you home the tiredness was getting to you and you could tell he was tired too by the sound of his yawn and his sleepy eyes

Stopping in front of your apartment building which he seemed to remember you sighed “gracias, por todo de verdad” you smiled at him and he smiled too “no es nada querida, lo que sea para mi alumna favorita” he said and you chuckled nodding “bueno, gracias otra vez, tenga buen noche y con cuidado por favor” you said getting your stuff and opening the door

“Si claro, gracias nena buenas noches” he said smiling and you smiled once more before closing the door and again he didn’t leave until you fully entered the building and after that he drove off, you entered your apartment smiling like an idiot as you put your stuff down and kicked off your shoes and you noticed you still had his jacket on and you took it off and looked at the dark brownish jacket it was warm and it smelled like him even from afar

You grinned about to walk over to your room to get ready for bed but something poking out of your bag caught your eye, the money you gave Esteban to pay for your food and you sighed a smile on your lips, how did you know it was your money? The folding on the bills “carajo” you chuckled putting the money in your bag and then going to your room.

Esteban entered his apartment and kicked off his shoes putting his things down on his table, he heard meows and purrs as he felt fluff rub against his legs “hola hermosa” he cooed as he scratched his cat’s side, the black cat had purred as her tail swirled “vamos lunita” he called her over making his way to his bedroom

Luna, he named the cat which he got three years prior, he fell in love with the little cat he would occasionally feed and he noticed she lacked a collar and had no where to go so instinctively he picked her up and took her to the vet doing everything he could to take her home and have her healthy.

The next morning you had woken up early to be able to stop by a coffee shop and get a big black coffee with a muffin, you weren’t going to let Esteban off that easily, you just had to do something for him, you entered class and it was empty except you saw Esteban sitting down at his desk going over some papers “buenos dias” you said making him look up his once serious expression turned into a smile “Buenos Dias nena” you smiled putting the coffee cup and paper bag holding the muffin down

“Ya se que no usaste el dinero que te di ayer” you gave him a look with a small smile and he leaned back a smug smile on his lips as he shrugged “por eso te traigo esto y te lo vas a comer y tomar” you pointed at him and he nodded “bueno bueno nena me lo como” he gave you a smile “gracias” he took out the muffin and took a bite “esta muy bueno, ten” he ripped it in half keeping the half he bit

“Pero si lo traje para ti” you said and he gave you a look “ya se que no comiste todavia ten” you took the bread playfully rolling your eyes and taking a bite “gracias por esto nena, de verdad te lo agradezco” he said and you nodded “si de nada” you smiled down at him.

As students began to come in you moved to your seat and sat down, the last thing you needed were rumors that would get both you and Esteban in trouble.

A/n: So sorry for taking so long to update my loves!!!! I swear I didn’t want to take this long but school was kicking me in the ass lol, but I do hope you all enjoy the read and this fic<3 and if you’d like to be tagged let me know!

Comments, likes, and reblogs are appreciated but not mandatory just enjoy the story my loves 🫶🏼

Taglist: @madame-fear @theoslove @catiwinky

#lsdln cast #esteban kukuriczka #fanfic #enzo vogrincic #matias recalt #francisco romero #esteban kukuriczka x reader

109 notes · View notes

azsazz · 1 year

Text

Dead by Dawn (Part 6)

Azriel x Cassian x Reader

Summary: Zombie!AU: It’s been a while since the end of the world.

Warnings: Blood, gore, injury, graphic depictions of violence, eventual poly!relationship, undead, death.

Word Count: 6,431

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5)

_________________________________________

Night 190

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Azriel’s fuming, pacing back and forth – rather loudly, Rhys thinks – across the peeling wooden floors in the tiny living room of the cabin they’re trapped in. The floorboards creak with each step he takes, his thick soled boots thudding against the oak in time with his heart in his chest. He should really quiet down, but he’s distracted by the fact that Cassian’s out there alone with you and Feyre while he’s injured. He doesn’t trust either of you.

“Az,” Rhys hisses, shifting the crusty blinds and ducking his head to peek through the gap in the boarded up window. The zoms are still out there, directly on the other side of the poorly boarded up front door, trying to claw their way inside and get a taste of the two men hidden inside. With every scratch of their nails he cringes, grimacing as they stumble and stare with vacant eyes, truly undead. He can imagine the brittle wood flaking away under their touch, their nails tearing off of their fingertips from decay. “Stop that.”

“How could we have been so fucking stupid?” Azriel spits, ignoring Rhys’ warning. He threads his fingers through his hair and winces as his long digits get caught in the knots. He needs to cut it soon, it’s too long for his liking, brushing over his eyes. He curses, tugging his hands out, hair catching on his rings. I should’ve shaved my damn head when I had the chance, I don’t know how Cassian does it.

Of course, they have a pair of scissors in the van. Maybe if they make it back alive he can convince Cassian to give him a trim. If you or Feyre don’t cause him any more harm while they’re away.

Just the thought of you two makes his temper flare again.

He shouldn’t have let the three of them part ways. It was stupid to leave Cassian alone, but even dumber for him to convince himself that if the two of you came along Cassian wouldn’t open the door. He had seen the way he looked at you when you’d given him half of your pain killers, had heard what he’d called you while delirious from blood loss. Pretty. It didn’t make it any less true, even in your fresh clothes and dirty face you’d nearly taken his breath away, with his gun frozen to the side of your head as he studied you in the moonlight.

Azriel’s not jealous of the looks Cassian was giving you, nor the compliments blurted that made your cheeks pinken adorably. No, the burn he’d felt in his chest as he watched you was because you still seemed so…good. Even after the world had gone to shit and the things he knew you had to have gone through to get to this point – he just knows there’s something more to you, the sounds you’d made during your nightmare haven’t left his thoughts – you were still smiling and offering your kindness to three strange men hardly surviving in a bakery attic.

But still, the thought of you out there with Cassian…it doesn’t sit well with him. Sure, Cassian can more than handle himself. Azriel had seen his friend nearly split a zom in half from head to toe with nothing but the blunt edge of an ax. He had held onto his muscle much better than he or Rhys had, and it showed. This is one of the first rules they’d learned in the new world; don’t split up. And they’ve gone and done just that.

“Now he’s stuck with them.”

“At least he’ll be taken care of if we don’t make it out,” Rhys sighs, letting the curtain fall closed again. Bright light creeps through the cracks from the setting sun, washing his grimy t-shirt in stripes.

Azriel’s golden gaze snaps to Rhys, “We’re not going to die.”

“I’m not too sure about that, Az,” Rhys responds. There’s a defeated lilt to his tone and his hand falls away from the knife strapped to his hip in favor of picking at something on his shirt to avoid eye contact with his best friend.

Azriel tenses, stomach twisting into one big knot as he stalks for the window to get his own look. A plume of dust wafts from the curtain when he pulls it back forcefully, and he has to pinch his nose and hold his breath so he doesn’t sneeze.

When the tingling in his sinuses passes, he peeks outside.

His heart drops at the sight. There are so many zombies that he can’t see where the horde ends. Azriel chews on his lip as he watches. He wants to disagree with Rhys with every fiber of his being, but seeing this for himself, their chances don’t look too good.

You’ve got to figure something out, Az, he thinks to himself, and fast.

He pushes off of the window and quickly shuffles throughout the house, scanning each room for anything that might be of use. All of the windows are boarded up, and the zoms seem to have found their way around the perimeter, groaning and moaning like a warped record.

“Okay, okay,” he mutters to himself when he finds no clear escape route. He racks his brain for the faintest idea of how to get them out of here, “Think.”

When Azriel makes his way back into the living room he finds Rhys settled on the floor, gun placed lightly in his lap. His head is tipped back, resting against the peeling floral wallpaper that looks like it was put in the same year the van was made. His violet gaze is pinned to the door, as if he can see every splinter of the door peeling away beneath the clawing hands of the zombies outside.

The sound makes Azriel shudder.

He sighs, collapsing onto the floor next to Rhys, squeezing his eyes shut tight.

“Maybe they’ll leave if we stay quiet,” Rhys says, sounding like he doesn’t believe it.

“Maybe,” Azriel echoes, because really, he can’t think of a better idea.

Minutes feel like hours while they sit quietly, alone with their thoughts. Azriel realizes how bad of a situation they’re in. Sure, they’re safe from the horde for now, but they’ve got no food, no water, no plan. They won’t survive very long here.

He can only pray that Rhysand’s idea works.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅

Azriel doesn’t know how long they’ve been sitting in this house but his ass is numb and his mind is broken. He pushes himself from the wall, and keeping his footsteps light, makes his way over to the window to peek at the situation outside, though by the incessant scratching he knows it hasn’t lightened up.

The sun is hiding behind the tall trees already and his heart drops. There’s only a little longer until nightfall and then they’ll have no choice but to spend the night in this musty house.

He wants to bang his head against the hastily nailed boards for being so stupid. This whole thing is his fault and now Rhys is trapped here with him and there’s no way out and–

Rhys stands, hugging his weapon to his chest tightly, black brows furrowed in confusion.

“Do you hear that?”

Azriel stills and no, he doesn’t hear anything but the constant scraping and groaning he’d become accustomed to in the few hours they’d been here. He takes a calming breath, straining to hear over the bone chilling sounds, and there it is.

“Is that fucking Bohemian Rhapsody?”

It fucking is.

“What the actual fuck?” Rhys asks, crowding up against him as they press their ears to the cracks. Sure enough, the glorious notes of Freddy Mercury serenades the forest, his melodic voice drawing the attention of the zoms outside. Like wild fans to a celebrity, they clamber off of the porch, falling over each other in a slow race to get to wherever the sound is coming from.

“Get on the radio,” Azriel commands, “See if it’s Cass.”

Rhys tugs the walkie-talking where it’s clipped on his belt, flicking it on to the channel the three of them always use to communicate. Both men flinch when the loud radio static fills the room. Rhys fumbles with it, lowering the volume as it evens out. Azriel peeks outside to see if it’s caught any of the straggling zombies' attention. Luckily, it hasn’t.

“Cass, come in Cass.”

They share a look over the silent line.

“Cassian?”

Azriel releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“What’s going on? Is that you?” Rhys asks quickly.

“It’s (Y/N),” Cassian reports, “She’s trying to save you.”

“Why?” The question spills from Azriel’s lips without his consent. Rhys glares at him but all he can do is shrug. When he thinks about it, it’s a valid question. Rhys repeats his words into the radio.

“Because she’s good,” Cassian defends, and, well, he’s not really convinced, but he’ll take Cassian’s word for now.

“And Feyre?” Rhys asks. His gaze is lowered to the ground and Azriel squints at his friend who is so very obviously avoiding looking at him. He shifts his gaze instead, feeling like he’s intruding on something. The last few zombies withdraw into the woods. He signals to the couch and Rhys tosses the radio into the middle while Azriel walks around to the other side of it.

They lift and move it with ease. Azriel has to shake the thought of how the undead could have shoved it away just as effortlessly if they had gotten through the door.

“She’s getting us gas. Should be back any minute, so you better hurry up if you want a ride,” Cassian responds before abruptly cutting the line.

Azriel looks to Rhysand who only shrugs, “Guess we better go then.”

He switches the radio off and replaces it securely to his belt, then sets his shotgun to his shoulder with a firm nod. He’s ready for anything. Azriel’s own gun is tight in his grip and he takes a steadying breath before pulling open the door.

Rhysand is quick to scope the porch, prepared to shoot any zom on sight, though he knows that he shouldn’t. The horde had just left and the song is winding down to its last chorus. He doesn’t want to draw them back this way.

There’s a straggler on the porch. It’s hopping on the one leg it has, the other shredded and torn clean off at the knee. The festering wound drips black and the putrid smell nearly makes him gag. He’s surprised it’s upright with the crowd that had been around here, knocking and shoving into each other without a sense of personal space.

Rhys kicks it off the porch with ease, jumping over the groaning creature that reaches out for him.

Azriel follows, running straight into the woods.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱ ⋅•⋅

Your breathing is labored as you stalk through the lush forest in the general direction Cassian had directed you that his friends had gone. Sweat beads at your brow from the combined effort of lugging the record player, keeping careful watch around you, all while being mindful of your aching ankle. You’re moving as quickly as you can, grumbling to yourself that after you save these assholes you’ll find someplace to stay for a few days to finally give yourself time to rest your injury, even if Feyre says no.

All you have to do is find them, set up the record player, and return to Cassian all before Feyre gets back to the car and sees that you’re gone.

Easy enough.

The record player is tucked under your arm on its side and you’re pretty sure you shouldn’t be holding it like this, but you need your other hand free, holding your knife just in case you run into a spot of trouble.

Cassian had been reluctant to give into your idea of using their record player to lure away the zombies, which made you believe that it belonged to Azriel, but he quickly gave in when you’d asked him if he would rather have music or his friends.

Azriel’s going to hate you even more after this.

You push the thought and the pain stabbing at your ankle away, wiping your brow with the back of your hand. It’s muggy in the wooded forest, summer in its peak, and you’d curse it only if you didn’t know how rough the winter is going to be. You didn’t even want to think about it, with the cold weather came less game, less resources for you and Feyre to survive off of. The both of you need to head somewhere warm year-round if you’re truly going to survive this.

You pause for a moment to catch your breath and listen for a sign of where Cassian’s friends might have gone off to. You check your surroundings and curse under your breath when you realize you haven’t been leaving a path for yourself to get back if you can’t find them.

You swallow the panic. Everywhere around you looks the same and you’re not sure which direction you had even come from, how to get back to the car if your life depended on it. Well, maybe by some stroke of luck you’d find your way back there, but, like you always say, your lick is truly shit.

“(Y/N),” you breathe, sucking down a sharp breath, “One thing at a time.”

Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you will yourself to focus. You can’t let yourself get worked up or you’ll be zombie food before you can even help. You don’t have Feyre talking sense to you, bring you back from your reeling thoughts, you only have yourself.

“Find Azriel and Rhys.” You repeat the mantra softly a few times, forcing your feet to begin moving again. The first step in your plan.

You wait. You listen.

And there it is, under the sounds of the chirping bugs and eager birds, the hungry, feral growls of the undead looking for their next meal. Their jaws snap, ricocheting through the greens surrounding you, and for a moment you feel like you’re in a fishbowl, that they’re already surrounding you. You release a shaky exhale and remind yourself that they haven’t caught sight of you yet.

You hope you’re not too late.

Following the noise of the vile creatures, it doesn’t take long for you to come upon the horde, surrounding a rickety cabin that you’re sure is the one Azriel and Rhysand have taken refuge in. You don’t stray too close or too long, instead moving as quickly as you can spare quietly, to find a spot far enough to attract the zombies away from the cabin, but not so far that the music can’t be heard.

You holster your weapon when you find a spot, getting to work. You place the record player on the ground next to an uprooted tree. You have to be thoughtful of where you place the speaker, because as soon as the zoms wander over to attack it, the music will most likely stop playing.

You shove the loose brush up against it, trying to disguise the record player the best that you can, grinning as you sit back on your haunches to admire your work. You cannot wait to rub it in their faces.

You inhale deeply, release the long breath, and flick the player on.

Before the first note even plays, you’re already pulling out your knife and limping away as quickly as you can.

You figure you’re moving in the general direction of where you’d come from. There’s no way to be sure, but any direction away from the zombies is the correct direction in your head.

But you must’ve got yourself turned around somehow because you’re gasping and ducking behind a thick stumped tree as the first walker from the group begins to stumble by.

You nearly bite through your lip, glaring down at your ankle in fury. You know you’re going to have to run now, there’s no other choice. And you’ll be damned if you die because of your ankle.

Not today.

Pushing off of the tree, you begin running. You cut through the trees, eyes flickering from the path ahead to your surroundings, keeping a keen eye out for any wandering undead. It’s uncanny, you think, the music echoing through the trees, and it would be like a movie, if you weren’t actually terrified for your life right now.

It’s definitely something to laugh about later.

You try futility to hold in your grunts and gasps of pain, but all you want to do is scream because of the pain ripping through your ankle. It feels like you’ve been stabbed.

If you’re not running in the correct direction you’re going to be so pissed. And rightfully so.

To your very very unfortunate luck, the toe of your shoe catches on an upturned root. You go down hard, knees crashing into the ground, one lands on a fallen branch and the crack is resounding. You cry out in pain and clutch your knee to your chest, curling into a tight ball and you pant through the pain. You squeeze your eyes shut and try to hold back the prickling in your eyes as tears threaten to fall.

Thick and hot blood streams in ribbons from your hand where your blade had ripped into your palm when you’d been bracing yourself to fall to the ground. You’re lucky you didn’t accidentally stab an organ or something that would be tougher to heal from. You have enough injuries already.

For a fleeting moment you wonder if this is what dying feels like.

Hot tears stream down your face. You’re too weak – too hurt – to even open your eyes when you hear footsteps approaching.

You know that it truly is too late.

“I’m so sorry Feyre,” you sob, curling your arms tighter around yourself. Rocks and sharp twigs scratch at your face as you try to draw the throbbing pain from your ankle and hand to somewhere more bearable.

If you were paying more attention you’d have been able to discern that the footsteps you hear aren’t zombies. They’re much too quick to be a part of the undead family.

“(Y/N)?”

You blink through the hot tears stinging your eyes until you can make out the two figures looming over your frail body.

Your plan worked.

“Rhysand? Azriel?”

They’re both more stunned than they should be to see you curled up on yourself in the middle of the forest floor, covered in dirt with twigs in your hair.

“Wha–” Azriel starts but Rhys cuts him off.

“Az, duck!”

Azriel doesn’t have to think twice as he drops to the ground. It’s instinct by now to listen to his friends orders without question. No longer would they try to get him into trouble, trying to convince him to skip class with them or tag buildings with spray paint Rhys had lifted from the local hardware store. No, these days were filled with nothing more than serious conversations and trying to stay alive.

He’d give anything to go back to before.

As soon as his knees hit the soft ground Rhys pops off a shot over his head. The bullet finds home in the center of a zombie's forehead. It had been attracted to your cries. That’s how the two of them had found you after all.

“Hey,” Azriel says over the ringing in his ears, reaching out a hand to help. When you flinch he drops it by his side, forcing back the heat threatening to consume his cheeks at the sight of his own fucked up hands. He should’ve known. “You okay?”

He spares a glance at your injured ankle, knowing the root of the problem. As his golden eyes snake back up your body he notices the blood that’s soaking into your shirt where it’s pressed against your chest. He curses under his breath.

The both of you flinch when Rhys’ gun rings off another shot, and one more following. He glances down at you, violet eyes wide with worry, gun aimed high. “We have to go.”

Azriel gives a sharp nod, his face setting into that apathetic one you’ve become all too familiar with in the short time that you’ve known him. He turns back to you, “Come on. We have to get you up.”

It’s strange, he thinks. He doesn’t like you or your friend being around but he doesn’t even have to think about saving you.

“I can’t,” you whimper pathetically. You blink the tears from the corner of your eyes. “It hurts.”

Azriel doesn’t respond, just shoulders his gun and scoops you up into his arms. Your face twists in pain as he shifts you up, releasing a yelp as your ankle is jostled. You clutch your split hand tighter to your chest, free arm wrapping tightly around Azriel’s neck, shoving your face into the side of his shoulder.

You can’t even enjoy the feeling of his muscular chest because all you want to do is pass out from the exhaustion, dehydration, and pain.

Apparently, Azriel senses this because he’s growling down at you, “Wake the fuck up (Y/N). Don’t go to sleep.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱

The three of you can hear Feyre and Cassian arguing from a mile away.

Okay, it’s not quite a mile away, but in the silent forest where all you can hear is the sound of Rhys and Azriels pounding footsteps, your beating heart matching his, ear pressed flush to Azriel’s chest. You whimper occasionally and your arm is tired from holding him so tightly, the other slick with hot blood seeping through the thin fabric of your shirt.

It sounds like they’re using megaphones compared to the three of you.

Cassian’s dumping the last of the fuel into the tank of the van while Feyre scolds him. She’s fuming, giving the large man a piece of your mind about letting you go off on your own like that.

Her mind is already set on going to find you and she can feel herself going a little bit crazy. You’re the only person she’d had for the past few months, and she doesn’t know how she’ll be able to go on if you’re not with her, keeping her sane.

She rips the empty gas can out of his hands when he’s done and throws it at him. The plastic slaps dully as Cassian bats it out of the air, squabbling about how you said it was going to be an easy task.

In theory, it was.

Feyre’s gray eyes blaze with an anger you’d only seen occasionally.

“Enjoy your fucking ride!”

Cassian tries to grab her arm to stop her but she’s too quick, twisting away from him. He understands why she’s yelling at him, he really does, but what Feyre’s not realizing is that her high pitched yelling could be attracting a nearby herd of zombies. Of course he hadn’t wanted you to go off on your own, but it wasn’t like he could stop you.

“Feyre,” Cassian cuts off her rant, catching sight of you and his friends emerging from the forest. “There they are!”

Rhys and Azriel come scrambling out of the trees. Rhys has his gun aimed behind the small group, scouting for any close zombies.

Azriel yells at the two staring dumbfounded at you all, “Get the fuck in the car!”

No one questions him, Cassian throwing the back doors open to the van while Feyre breathes a sigh of relief before she scrambles inside. Azriel’s quick to follow, stepping inside with the ease of a well built man, and you’re impressed by his strength.

Rhys slams the doors shut behind all of you before running around to the driver’s door. He clambers into the front seat and Cassian tosses the keys up front to him.

He shoves them in the ignition, twisting them as he sends a panicky glance up towards the trees. The van sputters to life.

The zoms slowly trickle out of the trees, manifesting as if from the shadows themselves.

Azriel collapses onto the bench seat with you still safe and snug in his arms. His hands tighten around you as Rhysand throws the car into gear and slams down on the gas pedal, the van lurching forward, the jolt causes you to cry out in pain.

The worn tires screech against the sun-cracked pavement and Rhys rams into a zombie who’s trying to claw at the car. Its jaw is hanging from its face and he’s missing an eye and an arm. The creature crunches under the tires like a watermelon.

“Oh my God, is she okay?” Feyre asks from the passenger seat she’d climbed into. She twists around in the seat and stares at you with wide eyes. She can’t see your face from where it’s pressed into Azriel’s shirt but she can see the slight tremor of your body and can hear the sharp breaths you’re taking.

“I’m fine Fey,” you croak, squeezing your eyes shut. You’re not, and no one else in the car believes you for a second, but they all let you have your peace. Every jostle of the car is agonizing and your hand is still leaking blood from where it’s tucked under your armpit. You’re probably getting blood all over Azriel’s shirt but you can’t bring yourself to care.

You can feel his rings through the fabric of your shirt. He’s sitting as stiffly as you are, like he would rather be holding a zombie in his lap than you. He’s wearing a frown on his face and uses this time to admire your features. Your slightly dirty hair, the true color of your skin from where your tears had washed the dirt away. He finds himself wondering what the rest of you looks like.

His thoughts make him want to dump you right off of his lap.

So he does.

Azriel doesn’t shove you off onto the floor, he’s more gentlemanly than that. He stands awkwardly, swaying with the movements of the van. It’s a struggle because he can’t stand to his full height but he places you as gently as he can onto the worn bench seat, collapsing on the opposite one next to Cassian.

You can’t help the whimper that escapes you as your injured ankle knocks against your other one.

“What the fuck?” Feyre growls from the front seat when she hears your sharp cry.

The gash in the middle of your palm pulls when you place both hands on the seat as Rhysand swerves, trying to catch yourself before you fall off of the seat. He immediately apologizes after your loud curse. His violet eyes flick to the rearview mirror but you’re not looking at him.

“Fuck,” you gasp, jaw clenching tightly shut. You don’t need Feyre worrying over you, knowing that she’ll make Rhys stop the car if she has to. Getting away from the horde should be the first priority.

You consider yourself lucky after seeing what the sudden movement of the car had done to Azriel. He’d gone tumbling backwards, smacking his head against the glass with a loud crack.

“She better be okay back there, shadow,” Feyre hisses to Azriel who is lifting his aching head, rubbing at the spot he knows is going to swell nicely. He glares up at the girl in the passenger seat.

“I really don’t like you.”

“Right back at ya, shadow.”

Azriel’s mouth twitches and he scoffs, shifting to sit on the other side of Cassian. He doesn’t want to be anywhere near Feyre.

He’s not sure which of you he likes less, the angry, annoying one, or the cute, injured one.

Well that settles that then.

“Az, where did all that blood on your shirt come from?” Cassian asks as he catches sight of the crimson on his friend’s shirt. He reaches out to search for any sign of injury. Azriel had always liked to keep quiet.

He slaps Cassian’s hand away with a grunt. He’s utterly pissed off. This is not what he had wanted to come back to the van to, the two girls trying to weasel their way into their group and the head injury he now has.

“Not mine,” he grunts, leaning his head back against the window. He’s exhausted from lack of nutrients and having to carry you all the way back to the car. A chill works its way over his body from the breeze floating through the front open windows, brushing against his shirt, damp with your blood. “It’s hers. She was trying to get herself killed out in the woods.”

“I was not, you asshole,” you’re quick to defend yourself before Feyre can jump in for you. You do know how to win some battles. You curl into yourself a little bit more when his dark gaze lands on you, his harsh glare makes you uncomfortable. Your palm stings and every time you flex it a fresh puddle of blood leaks from the wound. It’s soaking through your clothes and onto the tan leather of the seats. You hope Cassian won’t be too upset with you for the mess. “I was trying to save your ass more like.”

Azriel rolls his eyes, opening his mouth to respond with another snarky remark but Rhys is quick to cut him off, sending a sharp look at his friend through the rearview mirror. “Yes, (Y/N), thank you for saving us. Don’t know what we would’ve done if you hadn’t helped us and we’re not sure how we will ever be able to repay you. You too, Feyre, thank you for helping with the fuel.”

You and your companion share a look. It wasn’t often you’d hear such polite things from people these days. It’s shocking to say the least.

“Well, if I had known that this was how things were going to go I would’ve only helped you out Rhys,” you say but you don’t mean it. That’s just not who you are, no matter how much Azriel seems to not trust you, the glowering man across the bench ignoring all of you again.

Azriel wants to snipe back and mention that he was the one that had carried your ass all the way back to the car, but after another warning look from Rhys and even Feyre in the passenger seat, he decides to keep his mouth shut, grinding his jaw instead.

“(Y/N),” Cassian says cautiously, and it immediately raises your hackles. He slides from his seat to the one Azriel had abandoned next to you, holding his hands up in the air as if showing you that he means no harm. You almost snort at him, with his slightly widened eyes and warm face, looking actually worried for your well being. “Can you show me where your wound is?”

You bite your lip but only take a second to contemplate before you’re shaking your head and tucking your arm further into your armpit. You’re starting to feel a little nauseous, but you’re not sure if it’s from blood loss or Rhys’ driving.

Cassian places a large hand at the base of your spine and warmth spreads throughout your body in response. Your back straightens but he doesn’t pull it away, instead rubbing his thumb in a soothing manner over the thin cloth of your shirt.

You try to hold back the full body shutter aching to be released.

“Please? Let me help you the way that you helped me.”

The softness of his voice and hazel eyes combined with the warmth of his hand nearly has you breaking full on into sobs. No one has ever been so kind to you, not even before the end of the world. But now, after everything you’ve been through, after having even turned yourself into a cruel and evil monster for having to do what you have…you don’t think you deserve this kindness from Cassian.

Tears prick your eyes and your throat thickens. You can’t look at him because you know for sure the tears will be falling again and you really don’t want to make any more of a fool of yourself in front of any of the people inside of this vehicle.

Slowly, you untuck your hand and show it to him.

Cassain hides his surprise well. He stares down at your wounded hand, a long thin slice that isn’t very deep but will still need some sort of stitching. Your fingers are painted red and the blood pools in the center of your hand quickly before another jolt from the car has it spilling over the sides of your hand.

You cringe at the sight but don’t move, letting the man assess the injury per his request. You can probably fix it up yourself, but the pain in your throbbing ankle is distracting and you can admit to yourself that it’s kind of nice to be doted on by Cassian.

Thankfully, you’ve all seen worse injuries, like Cassian’s leg, and the bulky man doesn’t think it will be too difficult to patch up. The skin around the wound is inflamed, red and puffy and angry looking, but otherwise the wound looks fairly clean.

Well, clean by apocalypse standards.

“Did yourself a number here, (Y/N),” he comments lightly, trying to get you to look up from where you’ve ducked your chin and refused to meet his eyes. You can’t think about the kindness on his face, how he seemed to easily let you play nurse for him and now returning the favor. Your cheeks flush hot as his hand crawls up your spine and you’re reminded of how his body had felt pressed up against yours–

“Good news is, you’ll be alright.”

You nod jerkily, slumping in your seat as he moves away to gather supplies. You immediately feel cold without his presence and you catch sight of Feyre in the corner of your eye. Her eyes are narrowed as she watches the two of you like a hawk, but thankfully Rhys draws her attention by asking her to pull out the map from the glove box.

You’re a trooper, you think. You hardly flinch when Cassian cleans the injury with the expired antiseptic he’s pulled from your bag after asking for your permission, and you barely react when he shoves the stitching needle a little too deep into the tender skin of your hand and has to pull it back out. He grins up at you sheepishly but you can’t force yourself to return it, grimacing at the sight of the jagged, uneven stitches he’s putting into your hand.

They look like the jagged teeth of a cartoon monster, but it seems like it’s holding together as it needs to. As you nod your approval Cassian beams, flashing you a striking grin that takes your breath away. He doesn’t seem to notice as he wraps your hand with a roll of gauze he’d pulled from their crate of medicine.

Is there anything that these three don’t have?

“Cassian?” your voice is quiet when you speak, nearly squeaking for his attention as he returns everything to its rightful place. You sneak a glance at Azriel, whose head is tilted back against the window of the van with his eyes closed. You’re not sure if he’s asleep but he’s keeping quiet, and that’s more than okay with you. He actually looks a lot nicer and even more handsome when he’s relaxed like this, his face free from his normal scowls and stress.

Naturally, he chooses this exact moment to lift his head, even though he knows that you’re not talking to him. Azriel barley catches your gaze before you flinch away, eyes darting to look at Cassian who has now turned to give you his full attention.

Luckily for you, Azriel doesn’t spare you a second glance before scooting closer to the front of the car, missing the flush of your cheeks.

“Thank you,” you murmur to Cassian, “For helping me.”

“And thank you for helping us,” he responds with a kind smile as he zips up your bag. “Now, is there anything we can do for that ankle of yours?”

You shrug, cheeks heating at the kindness of this man. “Not really. I just twisted it while running a few days ago. Should be fine with a little bit of rest.”

“Az used to give the best massages back in college,” Cassian says and Azriel’s head whips around from where Rhys and Feyre are bickering about where to stop for the night. His glorious golden eyes narrow at his friend in warning.

The longer haired man ignores him though and continues on, lifting your legs gently into his lap. He prods softly at your ankle, and it’s painful, but it’s the kind of pain that feels excruciatingly good. A soft moan slips from your lips as he digs his thick fingers in all of the right spots.

“It’s how he used to pull all of his partners,” Cassian snorts and rolls his eyes, “But everytime Rhys and I walked in on him with someone, that’s all it ever was. Don't think he actually ever had sex with any of them.”

“I resent that,” Azriel huffs, amusement flickering in his gaze.

“Why don’t you show (Y/N) how good your skills are?” Cassian grins up at his friend.

Your eyes roll back in your head as Cassian does something incredibly wicked with his fingers, prodding your swollen ankle perfectly. You miss the way that Azriel glances at his fucked up hands, burying them into the pockets of the hoodie he’d thrown on to protect him from the chill of your blood soaking his shirt.

“No, I’m good,” you and Azriel end up responding at the same time. You share a look but you’re quick to break eye contact with his emotionless stare, moving your gaze out the window of the car instead.

Eventually, the pain eases. You watch the trees pass by in a blur and the sky darken, all while Cassian kneads the muscles around your ankle. He’s very comforting, whispering soft words to you, his body heat seeping into you. You revel in the warmth, letting yourself melt further and further into the leather seats. His movements are heavenly and you hope he never stops, hope that he never has to leave.

For the first time in a long time you hope, and you fall into sleep.

#azriel x reader #cassian x reader #azriel x cassian x reader #zombie au #acotar #acomaf #acowar #cazriel #azsazz #dead by dawn

334 notes · View notes

popbloganddropit · 27 days

Text

The Tortured Poets Department - Taylor Swift (Part 2)

9. Guilty as Sin? - you cheeky little minx, Taylor!!! I’m not sure she’s made me blush like this before! A song about…fantasizing outside of your relationship that sounds like the first day warm sun hits your skin after a long, cold winter. And I personally love a song with some good old fashioned yearning, so the bridge really takes it over the top for me. 5/5

Best Line: I really love a lot of lines here, but if “Drowning in the Blue Nile, he sent me ‘Downtown Lights’” is such a killer opener.

10. Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me?- this song is an insane, showstopping moment. Edgy, raging, biting, and even still a little witty - “So tell me everything is not about me. But what if it is?” WAOLOM strikes such a good balance of being self-aware of her image and faults with genuine anger. Being the biggest pop star doesn’t make everything just roll off your back. Perfect production that builds and escalates exactly as it needs to. 5/5

Best Line: “I was tame, I was gentle 'til the circus life made me mean. ‘Don't you worry, folks, we took out all her teeth’”

11. I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can) - I really like the pseudo-western vibe going on and that lower register is always welcome in my books, but lyrically this doesn’t do a lot for me. It’s building to a punchline we all know is coming. She can’t fix him, shocking, and there’s not enough for me to root for the protagonist being delusional. Ending with just, “Whoa, maybe I can’t” is funny, but it’s not satisfying. If a common complaint is that this album is too long, this song doesn’t feel essential, story-wise. 2.5/5

Best Line: I said all of that, but I do really like the second verse, the best part being, “His hand so calloused from his pistol/Softly traces hearts on my face”.

12. loml- I had a really hard time picking a best line for this song. I almost made a list but decided that would be a little obnoxious. There’s references to her other work expertly weaved in to really great wordplay and metaphors and imagery. The development of the story in the three times you hear the chorus is stunningly good. It’s a pretty simple piano in the background with additional vocal layers right where they are needed for emphasis. There’s something a little bit missing from this song for me to give it a full 5, but I can’t quite put my finger on it and I also think loml really is a grower that’s not meant to be gobbled down in one bite. There’s a lot of lyrical details to be noticed and anything additional might take away from that. I vote this song most likely to be my favorite in 6 months that I don’t understand how it took so long to fully click. 4.5/5

Best Line: I had to do two, from the very beginning and end, that echo each other so it’s kind of like I only picked one then, right??? “Who's gonna stop us from waltzing back into rekindled flames if we know the steps anyway?” —-> “Our field of dreams, engulfed in fire. Your arson's match your somber eyes” Kill me (complimentary). The never before, never since turning into never before and ever since is also brilliant.

13. I Can Do It With a Broken Heart - This song is great. There’s a long history of Miss Swift making bops tinged with depression and anxiety and this may be her most unhinged version yet. A celebration of putting on a brave face when you’re going through some shit. Chanted like a mantra she tells herself, we get a peek behind the curtain of reaching glittering professional peaks not seen in this generation while her personal life was crashing. But no one can ever say Taylor Swift is not a professional - I love the delivery on the outro where she laughs off being miserable and ends with a little spoken zinger. Try and come for her job, indeed. 5/5

Best Line: “I’m so depressed, I act like it’s my birthday everyday. I’m so obsessed with him, but he avoids me like the plague,” tickles me so. This her comedy album. Inevitably going to go viral on Tik Tok at some point.

14. The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived - An absolutely killer bridge. It builds the drama up until the very end. Unfortunately, the verses could use a little stronger melody, the first half of the song is a little forgettable and feels a little clunky. 3/5

Best Line: “You kicked out the stage lights, but you’re still performing” is a close runner up but had to go with the opening of the bridge. “Were you sent by someone who wanted me dead?” is such a perfect escalation and so descriptive of a feeling without saying any feeling words.

15. The Alchemy- I really enjoy some parts of this song but I unfortunately have the desire to hire someone to dub over every single football reference so I can fully get into it. It’s too much, it’s too on the nose. I like the verses, I love the way she says, “I haven’t come around in so long,” and I think “who are we to fight the alchemy?” is a great line. There are just parts that feel like football Mad Libs in a way that makes this song pretty unlistenable to me. 1/5

Best Line: “This happens once every few lifetimes. These chemicals hit me like white wine”

16. Clara Bow - She’s known for writing about relationships and that has let the fact that songs about her relationship with fame are consistently top tier (despite being unrelatable to almost anyone since she is the most famous person on the planet) slip by mostly unnoticed. One of my favorite Taylor tricks is when she alters the lines a bit each go-round and/or flips the script in some way in the final chorus and this song is really an excellent combination of some of the best Taylor moves. I’m not going to pretend have known who Clara Bow was before this record, but it works and I don’t mind an album that makes me do a little Googling to understand some things. The Stevie Nicks reference is perfection. Saying her own name in a song really snaps you to attention. And I think this is a perfect album closer. She’s reckoning just as much with her own desire for notoriety and the consequences that go along with it as she is with former lovers, if you’re listening. 5/5

Best Line: “Crowd goes wild at her fingertip. Half moonshine, a full eclipse.” I’m not even sure I should include the first part. “Half moonshine, full eclipse” is one of my favorite things she’s ever written. (Side note as this is the most appropriate place to put it: the fucking personal poem from Stevie in the liner notes??? Stevie being a loud YOYO,K stan??? I weep at the coolness. Which is the opposite of cool and continuing to comment on it is even worse, sorry!)

Part 3 on the way!!!

#taylor swift #pop music #music review #the tortured poets department #ts ttpd #ttpd #ttpd era #taylor swift ttpd

20 notes · View notes

analogwriting · 26 days

Text

The Other Side of Paradise

Chapter 4: Take A Slice

Killer x gn!reader word count: 2.5k first|next a/n: sorry im so slow w this fic - i swear i'll start picking up the pace as soon as i finish training these new managers

Oh fuck.

Everything hurt. It hurt to move. It hurt to think. It hurt to exist. Your entire body felt like lead as you entered the world of the conscious, but you weren't even sure if you were going to have the strength to open your eyes. You might just have to go into a forever sleep.

You weren't even sure when or who you got home. You remember basically ascending as Killer fucked you into the ethereal plane over and over but then at some point your memory gets too foggy because you were too lost in the sauce to even process what was going on.

Slowly, you opened your eyes. The curtains were still drawn, so you weren't sure the time, but the sun peeked through the edges. You were in your shared bed but Killer was nowhere to be found. Probably band practice or something along those lines.

Though, you didn't hear them jamming out, so you assumed it was the second option.

You needed to sit up. Deep breath. You could do it.

“Don't strain yourself.” You jumped at Killer’s sudden voice, wincing at your own movement. You looked over, seeing him walking in with a tray of food. “I had a feeling you'd wake up soon.” He smiled, setting everything on the nightstand. The smell of what he made wafted through the air and into your nostrils, making you salivate and realize just how hungry you were.

You groaned, not wanting to move but you needed to. You knew you needed to eat and hydrate. You'd feel much better after.

You felt the bed dip as Killer sat on the edge of it. “Just pull me up, babe. Rip off the bandaid.” You knew you'd keep putting it off. You heard him snort before taking your arm and suddenly pulling you up.

Oh fuck.

Your entire body buzzed with pain for a moment and a wave of nausea washed over you; a tingle running up your spine specifically, giving you goosebumps. You sat there a moment, letting your body ride through the pain for a moment before opening your eyes and letting out a breath.

Killer was watching you with a frown. “I’m sorry,” he said. You blinked, looking at him. “It’s my own fault.” You snorted, pulling him into a soft kiss. “I could've told you to stop, but I didnt. I wanted this. This is my own consequence.”

He frowned deeper. “But I could've went a little gentler.” You shook your head. “Nah. It was perfect. I wouldn't have had it any other way “ You kissed him again and he smiled. The both of you knew you were an enjoyer of the more rough side of things.

“If you say so.” He shook his head, grabbing the tray and setting it up in your lap. “Now, I need you to eat everything on this plate and drink all that water, got it? I'll be back up in half an hour to check on you.”

Your face warmed up but you smiled before saluting and nodding. “Aye aye.” You knew he was serious when it came to food - especially after a full night of fun.

With that, he left you to your own devices.

You looked at the entire spread he cooked up for you. He made all of your favorites. He wanted you to regain your strength after last night. He also didn't know the lack of food you consumed yesterday. You might keep that to yourself, you don't need him upset and worrying about you right before he leaves.

Plus, it's not like it's a habit. You were just too excited to eat.

The food was delicious as it always was whenever Killer cooked. You swore that if rockstardom didn’t work out, he could definitely make it as a chef of some kind - that was his backup plan anyway. You’d say you were biased, but everyone who has ever had his cooking would agree. He was easily the best cook any of you knew.

After you finished up, you decided you should probably try to make your way out of bed. You didn’t want to spend all day laying around, especially when Killer only had so much time left with you. You wanted to be able to spend time with him properly. He’d stay with you in bed if you asked, but you didn’t want to do that. You wanted to be able to do things. What things? You weren’t sure, but you didn’t want to make him lay around the entire time. You also wanted to make sure you spent time with Kid, Heat, and Wire too.

You slowly made your way to the edge of bed, taking your time standing up. Your entire body ached, but the more you moved and stretched it, the better it felt. Exhaustion and stiffness were all you were experiencing right now.

You rummaged around your dresser for a moment before deciding on a nice and comfortable outfit before heading out the bedroom. Music was playing through the house, but it wasn’t their rehearsing, they were just playing something on a stereo. You wondered what they were up to.

Slowly but surely, you made your way down the stairs, taking them one at a time. The smell of barbeque hits your nose and now you were really curious as to what was going on. You picked up the pace as much as you could, eventually reaching the bottom.

“Babe, you shouldn’t be up.” You felt Killer immediately sweep you into his arms with a concerned look on his face. “Don’t strain yourself.” He frowned.

You gasped, looking at him. A small laugh escaped you and you shook your head. “I’m fine, darling, really.” You kissed his cheek, squirming to have him put you down. “Besides, it smells phenomenal and there’s decorations. What’s going on?”

Killer finally caved, setting you down gently, but keeping an arm around your waist as he walked you into the kitchen. You blinked as you saw he had all kinds of things he was prepping to cook.

“Isn’t it obvious? We’re throwing a party, duh.” Kid’s voice boomed from behind you, making you jump from the sudden noise. You looked back at him, glaring slightly. “You ass.” He just laughed, shaking his head as he grabbed a beer from the fridge.

“A party for what?” You decide to just move on instead of making a fight like you usually did. You didn’t have the energy for it. Kid just looked at you for a moment before moving on as well. He was probably well aware of your current predicament. “Well, I’m assuming Killer told you the news finally yesterday.”

You blinked, momentarily forgetting what he could be referencing before it hit you. Your brain was still foggy and slow. You nodded at him. “The fact that you guys finally got signed?” As you said those words, you couldn’t help but grin widely, Kid mirroring you. “Congrats, by the way.”

Kid chuckled, straightening himself out. “Thank you. It was about time we did anyway.” Confidence radiated from him; he was absolutely going to be riding this high for a long time. He snorted, shaking his head. “Anyway, we told everyone we had big news and we decided to throw a party for it.”

“So, who all is making it?” It was rare that your large friend group was able to all meet up at once. When there were over thirty of you, it was close to impossible. Besides, you hadn’t even so much as looked at your phone. You had no idea where it was, so you hadn’t even checked the chat.

“Everyone, actually.” Your attention turned back to Killer, your eyes widening. “Holy shit, really?” It was hard enough to plan an event where each one of you could actually make it, but to throw something on the fly? And everyone able to show?

That was a miracle. A good omen, surely. Why else would the stars align so perfectly?

“We were just going to break the news in chat once we told everyone at the party, but since everyone will actually be there, we won’t have to do a second reveal or tell people to keep it bottled until we told everyone.” Kid grinned, clearly excited. As he should be - this was huge! This is what he’d been dreaming of since he was seven! This is what he had worked so hard for - what they had all worked so hard for. You couldn’t be more proud of them all.

“This is fantastic! Finally, the universe decides to cut us some slack. For once everyone is able to get together and y’all got signed. It can only go up from here!”

Kid laughed loudly, nodding. “Cheers to that one!” Then he shotgunned his beer before slamming the empty can against his head to smash it and throwing it away. You fuckin’ hated when he did that, but you didn’t say anything. You were going to choose peace.

You patted your body, looking around. “Where is my phone by the way? I haven’t seen it all day.” You weren’t really asking anyone in particular, you were more mumbling to yourself.

“It’s plugged in upstairs, I put it on silent so you could get some sleep. Figured I’d wake you up if anything important happened,” Killer said as he moved to do some more food prep. It was also true - if anyone couldn’t get a hold of you, they’d call him since you two were always together. He kept his phone on his person for this reason. Just in case of emergencies since you were pants at keeping yours on you.

“Ah. Makes sense.” You also weren’t one to really be attached to your phone when you were home anyway. You had everything you needed here and saw your friends quite a bit. You tended to check it more when you were in classes or at work. Being by yourself, you had nothing else to do besides be on your phone anyway.

“Not too much has happened in the chat. Just plans arranging,” Kid said, grabbing another beer. You nodded, folding your arms and leaning back against a counter.

“What still needs to be done?” You looked at the both of them. Kid opened his mouth when Killer interrupted. “You need to rest. We have everything under control. Heat n’ Wire should be back from the store soon.”

You frowned, folding your arms as you pouted. You suddenly felt a wave of defiance as he shot down any chance of you helping before you even offered. “But I don’t wanna. I want to help!” You looked at him as he turned to you. “You can help me by making me worry less and resting up before the party. You always go hard, so I want you to be ready.”

You huffed at him, shaking your head. He wasn’t wrong - you were quite the partier. You loved the entire vibe of parties…at least with your friends. “Not going. I’m helping and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

Kid snorted as he watched the interaction between the two of you. “Alright. You two have your little lovers quarrel, I’m going to head back outside to set up the backyard.”

“I’m coming wi-” As you spoke, you had started to follow him when you felt your boyfriend tug the back of your shirt to keep you in place. “You’re not.”

You spun on your heels, glaring at him. “You can’t force me to go and lay down - that’s dumb. Just lemme help!”

“What’s going on here?” Wire walked in from the garage door.

You frowned at him. “Killer won’t let me help.” You folded your arms to pout and your friend chuckled, shaking his head. “He keeps telling me I need to rest when I��m perfectly fine!”

“I heard you had a long night, rest would be wise.” He looked from you to Killer. It was no surprise everyone knew, it wasn’t hard to put two and two together. Killer wasn’t one to kiss and tell, but it also wasn’t needed. “But, we also know how stubborn they can be once they make up their mind.” Your boyfriend sighed, nodding. He knew all too well. You and your cousin were the same in that regard. Stubborn and hot-headed.

“Surely, we can find a compromise.”

Heat walked in from the backyard. “We have to run to the store again, we forgot some stuff.” He groaned, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. Then it dawned on you.

“Oh shit, you guys are pants at organizing. I can’t imagine that everything is going to be ready for the party in time.” If it were solely up to them, they’d run out of things halfway through the party or not get half the shit needed. You glanced at the clock to start planning on what needed to be done by when.

You moved, checking the list both from their previous trip and the one they need to go on. “This isn’t nearly enough. Let me check and see the status of things.”

You made a big sweep. You checked the garage, the kitchen, and the backyard - the three main hangout areas of the house. Things were set up here and there but it was all in pieces and you knew that if you didn’t take over putting things together - it was going to end in disaster. Not that anyone would really care, but if this was going to kind of tie off as their going away party - you wanted it to be good.

“Alright, boys. Let me take over organizing everything. We only have a few hours and a shit ton of things that need to be done, so let’s lock in.” You had already made a list of things to be done, items Heat and Wire needed to grab from the store, and an inventory of everything you already had.

Killer had gone and grabbed your phone for you so that you could gauge who was arriving when so you could have a more solid line of events that were going to happen, creating a kind of itinerary for what was going to go on. He seemed to be satisfied with you managing things as long as you didn’t move around too much.

This is how you were helping out. You were going to instruct everyone on what to do. You didn’t need to move around too much, you mostly sat at the island in the kitchen as you planned everything out. The boys moved around you, occasionally asking you what they needed to do next. Naturally, the grocery list that Kid put together for their second trip was still not everything they needed, so you were able to expand that before sending them back on another run.

With you in charge, things were going a little more smoothly and before you knew it, everything was ready. All you had to do was wait for your friends to start rolling in.

#i've been closing every single day so bear w me a little longer #i also am reshaping the outline so hopefully be able to steamroll things a bit better #one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x you #killer one piece #killer x reader #massacre soldier killer #am fics #tosp #killer #also my time at sandrock got me hella distracted lmao #and who am i romancing? if you guessed the fuckin' cook of the tavern you'd be correct #i have a type in case that wasn't clear sdlfkjsg

16 notes · View notes

sukieros · 1 year

Text

VALENTINE KILLER

(teaser) chapter one

Jungwon × Reader × Jake × Heeseung — A boy born in February, a guy who was made in February and a man who likes February. Who's the real Valentine Killer?

a story inspired by Cynthia Eden's U.S.A Best Selling Book, Die for Me: A Novel of the Valentine Killer.

SYNOPSIS: In which Y/N, a good student, gets involved in a tragedy she never expected to happen only because of meeting the new student. Detectives from their town, were later on standing in front of her for an unknown reason.

DISCLAIMER: Please bare with my incorrect spelling and grammars. I'm still learning and growing up from my mistakes. This story will be mentioning triggering images that included blood. Content contain mature themes and violence.

Killing is great.

The sun peeked through your curtains as the wind came along, dancing with them. You felt the heat of the sun rays kiss your face as you rubbed and squinted your tired eyes.

It's morning now, you thought. And you have to go to school, again. You have to admit it, you hate going to school because it's difficult to deal with voices and behaviors in highschool. The generation's mindset now a days are scary and disturbing and no one can lie about that.

“Y/N! You have to go to school now!!!” It's your brother, Jay Park, yelling downstairs. You let out a sharp grunt as your head throbbed from the books you read last night.

Your body doesn't want to get off from bed but you have no choice because you'll be skinned alive by your family if you will skip class this day.

You did try, but it never ended well.

Screams are lovely, especially when they're muffled.

You screamed at the top of your lungs when a frog suddenly leaped from your window.

“Mother fucking frog! You son of a bitch!” You let our deep curses as you kept hitting the frog with your pillow and the frog kept jumping around every corner of your bed making you scream and throw yourself in front of your window.

You saw a figure standing and it revealed Sunghoon — the middle child, with a mischievous smirk plastered on his face.

“Thought Monika can wake you up.” He said proudly. You frowned and pushed his face with your hands.

Frogs are cute.

He knew you hate frogs but this doesn't stop him from scaring you. “Good Lord, look what you've done on my bed!” You yelled and the door opened with a mad Jay holding the knob hardly.

“It's 6:45 now Y/N you need to move your ass up!” He spatted. You just rolled your eyes as the eldest ranted about how lazy you are.

“You should learn from this situation, young lady or else you'll be sent to Forger's All Girls Academy.” He said with a stern voice.

You hate being locked up in a school and your schedule being almost controlled by other people. This punishment will be the worst one of all.

“I'm moving.” You said with a lame tone because you're tired about arguing with your brothers.

You walked out of your room as Jay trailed your steps until you reached the dining room. Sunghoon was already there eating with Monika, his pet frog. Your face crumpled in disgust, “Can you at least put her in the cage?” You demanded but the middle child just rolled his eyes and stuffed his mouth with rice and spam.

“Where's Yeji?” Jay asked as he motioned you to sit down on the chair which you did. “Shisswhosppingsinheerwumm.” Sunghoon choked as he answered the elder's question.

“Don't talk when your mouth is full dumb ass.” You stated while filling your plate with rice and spam.

He coughed many times and chewed loudly before gulping the food. Jay just sighed at his behavior. “She's in her room still sleeping.” He properly answered and drank his water beside his plate.

“She should be up now. It's February 14 and she's always being loud about her date. What's taking her so long to get down?” Jay curiously asked.

“I'll go get her.” You said as you stood up from your seat and climb upstairs to see the youngest.

Roses are Red.

You knocked on your sister's door waiting for an answer to come in.

Violets are Blue.

Yeji didn't answered so you took the opportunity to open the door but your nose was welcomed by a very foul smell.

Sugar is sweet.

You thought she's busy gaming and she's wearing her headphones on but surprisingly, there's no one inside.

And so are you.

You scanned the room and you have no idea where she went to but your eyes suddenly settled on the pink door.

Red are Roses.

You were having suspicions now because your sister doesn't usually leave her bathroom door, closed. It's always open because she loves the odor of it.

Blues are Violets.

You slowly approached the pinkish door and the smell is getting more fetid and it felt like you want to puke.

Sweet as sugar.

This smell is familiar to you that it's sending you a lot of thoughts — scary thoughts. But you kept denying that this is not real and it's just a hallucination.

Just like you.

You can't help it now because the disturbing thoughts running in your mind is twisting your stomach over the edge.

Red bloody roses.

You stood in front the closed door and slowly knocked on it. No answer. You knocked again and still, no answer.

Blues in the toilet.

You twisted the door knob and the funky smell is getting stronger as you slowly pushed the door.

Skin covered in violet.

The door fully opened and your eyes were lost.

Bruises sweet like cigar.

Your eyes met a feet, swaying and floating. It's nails were violet and it's skin is very pale.

Knife on head like regal.

Your body tensed up as you slowly trailed your eyes above.

Frozen like the ice, covered in sweat like fire.

You met the eyes. No, her eyes. And yours were in tears as your jaw were hanging. You want to scream but you cannot even do it.

Broken into piece, your heart is what I desire.

“AAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!” You finally let out your screams in horror as you cried and sobbed in the bathroom.

The hanging body made you cry. No. Yeji made you cry because the body was hers. It's cold, pale and two knives were stabbed in her, one on her chest and one on her head— dried blood has deep trails on her fare skin.

Slits were all over her pale and bruised skin, five, no... six, no... eleven slits were all over her. A rose was stitched on her eyes.

“No!!! Noo!!!” you cried more in trauma as you looked at your poor sister's body.

“What happened!?!” Jay and Sunghoon came rushing in Yeji's room. The two were huffing in breaths as they both ran to your spot and only to be surprised by a sight they never wanted to see.

They were tensed and frozen at their spot while you're now on the ground crying hardly. “Yeji!!! Who did this to you!!!!! AHHHH!!!!” You screamed at the top of your lungs.

It was very ugly. You never know what did she do to deserved a state like this. “Call 911 now!!” Jay yelled at Sunghoon who's now crying too, mad and furious.

You were now getting dizzy as you let out your cry. Sirens were later heard around your neighborhood while Sunghoon and Jay were calming you and processing together what's happening. Jay decided to leave Yeji's body hanging for a while before the FBI comes to investigate the scene. He knows that it was the worst idea but it's not a good move to touch her body for some sort of reason.

“She was just in her room last night.” Sunghoon sobbed as he hugged you. “She even happily bragged about her high scores yesterday.” He added. Jay was silent the whole day because he was too shocked. Especially you who firstly witnessed the body.

This will forever be a nightmare to the three of you.

“We found your sister's heart in an ice box from your own back yard. I think the killer purposely threw it out there or he immediately threw it before someone can catch him doing a crime over the victim.”

Nice to meet you. - VK🌹 “Engraved on the victim's body.” A detective said as he showed Jay the photo. The eldest thought that it's better for you to stay with the uniform to be safe.

“Lucky for your other sister to not discover he body too late because if she did, a box will appear in your porch and send her the greatest PSTD because of VK.”

“Who's VK?” He curiously asked. “Valentine Killer.” The detective spoke.

And that ringed him a bell.

5 Years Later...

“New university, new life.” You said to yourself as your held the straps of your bag while entering the Decelis Academy.

Be aware of anyone you meet. Jay's voice lingered around your head. Yes, the three of you became more aware of what's going to happen after the incident that happened in that house, that old house you guys left behind.

And you marked those words inside you.

Do you think this is easy? No sweet sugar, you'll always be mine.

RIIINGG!!!

The school bell rang and students are now rushing to get inside their classrooms while you're still lost even though your reading your subject and class list.

“You need help?” A boy with cat eyes, blue hair and eyeglass came to you. You scanned him, but he looks harmless. “Oh, yeah. I'm lost.” You said while walking and he followed you. “What's your first period subject?” He asked.

You were hesitant at first but he's not gonna hurt you. Maybe not, maybe yes, you're not really certain. “Hmmmm ethics.” You said.

“Really? I'm going to that room too!” He said as he's smiling genuinely. “Great, now we're going there. I don't know how does this map works.” You scoffed. “I went to that room while ago, follow me.”

You have doubts but after walking, you finally reached the ethics room and gladly the teacher didn't yet arrived.

“I'm Jungwon.” He said. “Oh I'm Y/N.” You introduced yourself.

“Nice to meet you.” Jungwon smiled.

Those words were familiar and it made you looked at his eyes and they were blank stare. His smile is different and it's sending you chills but you don't know why.

I'm not gonna let my guard down. You said in your mind.

“Nice to meet you too.” You replied back.

You can't runaway from me. Never. Again.

Oiiii, thank you for reading! I recommend you to read the novel, it's really thrilling! <3 I'll post my master list soon!

#enhypen x y/n #enhypen jake #enhypen #enhypen jungwon #enhypen heeseung #enhypen jay #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen nishimura riki #enhypen story #enhypen imagines #enhypen horror #enhypen sunoo

58 notes · View notes

milflewis · 1 year

Note

schumilton + 'im not letting you go:

bc you’ve been giving out that i apparently only write you angsty schumilton

“Have you seen my —“ Mick laughs, cutting himself off as Lewis lifts up an arm, Mick’s jumper in his hand.

Lewis smiles back at him, something soft at the edges, face shadowed by the sun that is only starting to rise, barely peeking through the nearly drawn curtains.

Mick drops his shoes and walks over to the bed. Lewis doesn’t say anything, drawing back his hand so Mick has to climb onto the sheets to follow it.

“Hi,” Mick says, swinging a leg over Lewis’s thighs, hand low on his stomach. His skin is still sleep warm and smooth. Mick presses down gently on his palm, feeling the muscle and tissue beneath him.

Lewis drapes the jumper over Mick’s back, the sleeves dangling down on either side of his neck, and runs a hand through his hair, fingers digging into the short hair at the nape of his neck.

“Can I,” Lewis asks, eyes flickering down to Mick’s mouth and back up again. Asking is a thing for Lewis, Mick realised last night, a little surprised but maybe he shouldn’t have been, considering everything.

Mick says yes and then Lewis is kissing him, breath morning stale and hot. His other hand comes up to hold Mick’s chin, fingers splayed across his cheek. They don’t shake.

He licks into Mick’s mouth slow and deliberate, Mick’s head spinning, before pulling away. His eyes are closed, lashes long and dark.

Mick watches him frown a little before smiling, ducking in to press a lingering kiss into the corner of Mick’s mouth. Mick’s stomach aches dully like it always does when he eats too many sweets way too fast. When he opens his eyes, he doesn’t seem startled at Mick already looking back at him.

Lewis hums, “Thank you,” thumb lightly rubbing the length of Mick’s jaw.

“Yeah,” Mick says, like an idiot, clearing his throat. “Yes.”

Lewis’s mouth ticks up into a smile, the lines in his cheeks deepening. He tugs at the sleeves of Mick’s jumper, crossing them over each other and uncrossing them.

“I like this colour. It suits you.”

Mick already knows that. He doesn’t ask Lewis if he remembers looking at Mick at the end of the 2023 season celebration, eyes bright, shirt unbuttoned save for one, because he wants Mick to die, and spreading his hands over Mick’s shoulders, warm and heavy, saying you should wear this shade of blue more often, Schumacher. Brings out your eyes. Those killer baby blues.

“I’ve been told,” Mick says and Lewis does this half shrug thing that he does, scrunching up his face.

“A tenner that it wasn’t Sebastian that told you,” Lewis says, and Mick laughs, climbing off him, slightly awkwardly.

When he pulls the jumper over his head, the room looks softer, washed out, all smudged lines and grey corners. Lewis has his arms folded behind his head, jesus, and the sheets just barely cover him up to his hips.

There is something strange in his face that Mick saw last night right before Lewis kissed him, and again, this morning. For all that things are easy between them, easier than Mick ever thought possible, easier than with most, he still doesn’t always know how to talk to Lewis.

Sebastian would know, Mick thinks and the thought is only a touch bitter. Personal growth.

“What time is your flight?” Mick asks, leaning against the back of a chair as he tugs on one shoe, not bothering to untie it.

“Later. I’m flying back to Monaco with Valtteri and Tiffany.”

Mick nods. “I have an early one.”

Lewis looks at the window and back at the lightening shadows in the room and then at Mick. “Yeah,” he says, eyebrows raised. “I know.”

“Right.” Mick swallows. He already told Lewis he had to leave because of an early flight when he got out of bed in the first place. He knows.

His skin goosebumps and prickles under his jumper. He rolls his shoulders. Lewis is still smiling with his eyes, face doing something very set and very careful.

Are you, Mick thinks, suddenly, mouth gone dry. He is realising that he might’ve gotten something very very wrong.

“You seeing Seb over the summer break?” Mick asks, slipping his hands into his jean pockets before taking them out again.

“We were talking about it, yeah.” The sun is up higher, the grey of the sun melting into orange. There is a cut of light across Lewis’s ribs. “He says he wants to show me what he’s done with his greenhouse.”

“That’s cool.” Mick plants his feet flat on the carpet, curling his toes in his shoes. Just take the corner. Don’t brake too early. “I’ll be in Switzerland too. Because I live there. As well. You know. If you wanted to catch up.”

Lewis blinks at him.

“Grab breakfast,” Mick continues. “Talk.”

He has never seen Lewis nervous is the thing. Not really. Not where it sinks into you and shakes everything you’re doing. That’s why he didn’t recognise it on him.

He had thought they both understood what last night meant, what it would mean going forward. He thinks of Lewis waiting until Mick says yes to something every time, even as Mick knows Lewis isn’t a fan of talking, and watches Lewis’s face crack open.

I’m not letting you go, Mick thinks. I am my father’s son, for better and for worse, and I have you now.

You have me, Mick thinks.

“Talk,” Lewis says, wryly. It’s been years and there’s still something so satisfying to surprising him.

“Yes.” Mick shifts on his feet. “I wanted to get breakfast today but. Early flight.” He shrugs.

Lewis laughs, the sound shaking loose from him. He throws one arm over his face, grinning. “Early flight,” he repeats. It’s a soft sound. Mick would like to hear it again.

“Yeah, yeah.” Lewis shakes his head, lowering his arm, eyes warm. This is the Lewis he knows. This is the one he stands next to in the garage and makes laugh. This is the one who sends Mick pictures of Roscoe, even as he’s being atted in the drivers group chat. This is the Lewis he kissed last night. “Get. Go. You’ll miss it.”

Mick waves a hand, picking up his coat from the floor. “We’ll see each other? In Switzerland? Over the break?”

“Yeah,” Lewis props himself up in his elbows as Mick walks backwards towards the door. Mick wants to lick his shoulders. “Call me when you land.”

Mick grins, giving him a sloppy salute and then, blowing an air kiss, something in his stomach squirming as he sees Lewis flop back into the bed, smiling up at the ceiling.

#soft soft soft #schumilton #little fics #kyle tag #niamh.asks

33 notes · View notes

butchboromir · 2 months

Text

really obsessed with the line "and the sun peeks in, like a killer through the curtain" in first few desperate hours. don't know why. i think i really like the sun imagery in goats songs

3 notes · View notes

boydepartment · 1 year

Text

I'm sorry, I'm late- Hwang Hyunjin: Chapter 3

Description: Y/n is a student teacher in a small town in France. Hwang Hyunjin is an idol who decided to run away after trouble started to arise again. He finds himself in the class where she helps, quickly they peaked each other’s interests. Both of them ran from something and it landed them in this small town in the middle of practically nowhere. One thing they both know is that the past always catches up and it is only a matter of time, so they better make the most of it.

Warnings for Chapter 3: none

WC- 5k

tags and links at the bottom of the chapter

Song- Time After Time – Margaret Whiting

~+~

Chapter 3: His Kindness & His Birthday

When you woke up the next morning you had a killer headache, when you stood up your head felt like someone took a bat and constantly smacked you.

“God…” You mumbled and walked toward your bathroom, you cleaned yourself up and started to recall what happened last night. When you walked out of your room you smelled food; good food, was Jinnie still here? You walked down your hallway quickly and saw him standing by the stove, he was cooking. Your curious eyes silently watched him as he stirred what you presumed to be scrambled eggs. He must’ve brought cooking ingredients over from his home. You watched as he swayed back and forth to the music he had playing on; he really could dance. It made you smile to yourself; he really could feel the music. It was impressive.

You didn’t want to embarrass him, so you walked back to your room and called his name.

“Jinnie!” You re-walked down the hallway.

“Cooking breakfast!” He called back, you walked into the kitchen, he turned around and grinned at you. The sun was peeking through the curtains, and he was illuminated beautifully, “good morning. Are you feeling okay?”

“I have a bit of a headache.” You said and looked at what he was cooking, you were right, scrambled eggs.

“Here, I’ll get you some water. Watch the eggs please.” He spun around and started getting you your glass. You hummed and watched the eggs; it was scarily domestic. Part of you didn’t mind, Jinnie is kind and you have never related to anyone as much as him.

Jinnie handed you a cold glass of water and took over the food again, “drink up, if needed we can run to a less secluded town for headache meds.”

“I think I might still have some in the cabinet in the bathroom…” You pondered and sipped the water. He started to plate the eggs and put jam on the toast.

“Where did you get all this food?” You asked, as you sat down on the table. He quickly put the food down and sat with you.

“I had some back at my house and then I picked up the jam this morning from the general store.” He said simply.

You nearly choked on your food, “you walked to town this morning?”

Jinnie nodded, “mhm, after our crying session last night we must’ve both passed out. You were still asleep when I woke up, so I wanted to make you breakfast.”

“That’s very kind of you.” You took a bite of your food and once again your tastebuds were delighted.

“I figured it would be nice after yesterday.” He spoke softly. Yeah, yesterday… You were hit with waves of memories. He ended up telling you why he ran, and you told him why you ran too. He was an idol… Like a celebrity?

“Do you have any questions? You have a cute funny look on your face.” Jinnie looked up at you.

“So you were-“ You didn’t even know how to ask.

Jinnie wiped his mouth of any crumbs, “an idol, performer, celebrity, whatever you want to call it.”

You nodded, “are you ever going to go back?” Part of you didn’t want him to. Your eyes just watched him as he shrugged and looked away from you.

“Not for a while…” He mumbled, then made eye contact with you, “so you’ll be bothered by me for a long time.” Jinnie smiled at you which you gladly returned to him.

“I look forward to it.”

~+~

The next week on his birthday you showed up at his home in the early morning, you were surprised that he was already up. Sometimes you noticed you had to grab the key under his mat and get him out of bed.

“Good morning, Y/n!” He said in a sing song voice, you noticed his basket was packed full of things.

“Good morning, Jinnie!” You grabbed the pumpkin bread from behind your back, “happy birthday!”

You saw his eyes light up and he grabbed the bread, smelling it. After, he set it down and pulled you in a hug, “thank you!”

When he pulled away, he put his hands on your shoulders, “you’re free today right?”

“Yes, I called off for your birthday.” You smiled brightly up at him.

Jinnie clasped his hands together, “perfect!” He quickly rushed to his basket and put the bread in, “we are going for a walk!”

“Right now?” You questioned.

“Yes!” He grabbed his basket and your hand, “we need to pick up your art supplies!”

After the pitstop at your home, you two went on your way.

“It’s your birthday I should be surprising you!” You walked and swayed your bag back and forth. He giggled and copied your actions.

“Well, this is how I want to spend my birthday.” Jinnie said, he led the way, walking in front of you. He would steal glances at you as you two walked.

“Where are we heading?” You were so curious as to where your mysterious neighbor, companion, friend, was leading you.

“You never fail to be so curious.” His voice was warm.

“Welllllllll!” You continuously swung your bag back and forth.

Jinnie turned around to look at you and turned his head, there was something in his eyes you couldn’t pinpoint, “do you trust me?” He asked.

You nodded your head, “yes I do.”

“Perfect.” He grabbed your hand and continued to lead you. You really tried not to get nervous, then your hand would become sweaty.

He started to lead you to the back side of the neighborhood, you decided to keep asking him questions.

“Is thiiiis… A nice place we’re going to?”

“Of course, it’s nice, I’m actually surprised that you haven’t been here.” He spoke.

You looked at him, “I don’t usually go this way. Can you still dance for me.”

Jinnie giggled, “yes Y/n.”

“Sing?”

“Yes, Y/n only for you.”

You started to swing your hands back and forth, you two were walking next to each other now.

“Okay we are getting close so close your eyes.” Jinnie said excitedly.

Your eyes closed and you couldn’t help but smile, you let him guide you deeper into the trees. Your feet almost betrayed you a couple of times, with the rock and loose dirt, but he caught you and just held onto you tighter. You felt his warm hands on your arms then they covered your eyes.

“No peeking.” He said, you let a giggle out.

“I’m not peeking!”

“Suuuure.” He teased.

In the next minute he took his hands off your face, “okay wait here.” You heard him giggling and shifting around.

“I have to get cushions down n stuff.” He explained, “keep your eyes closed!”

“I am! I am! I promise.” You covered your own eyes. You heard him shuffle around more until finally.

“Okay open!”

When you opened your eyes you were met with a beautiful scenic lake, and Jinnie was standing there with a ‘well?’ stance.

“I found this place a little while ago while getting lost to the town, total opposite direction. But it was worth it.” He jogged up to you, “plus it’s perfect to paint.”

You never really had someone be this thoughtful in years, let alone someone who wants to take care of you just because. It was hard to not get a little emotional.

“Wow…” You breathed.

“Perfect right?!” He grabbed your hand and sat you down on the cushion. He pulled out the canvases and paints.

“Just try to paint it, I want to see you do it. Not how I do it.” He said and sat down next to you. You nodded, still in awe about this whole thing. You took out your brushes and started to paint, this time you felt eyes on you. You weren’t watching him paint; he was observing you now.

“You’re making me nervous.” You spoke just above a whisper.

“You do this to me all the time.” Jinnie leaned closer to you, you could feel his breath on you.

“Does it make you nervous?” Your eyes kept going back and forth from the view to your canvas. You kept your stomach erupt in butterflies when he leaned even closer to you.

“Yeah, it does.” Jinnie said, “you’re doing great by the way, I don’t see why you need my help with this.” He continued to watch you paint in silence, you were about halfway done.

“Did you even need my help?” Jinnie teased.

You whipped your head over to him and bumped your face with his, he started giggling almost manically.

“What?” You questioned him, waving the paintbrush, you ended up splattering paint on him. Now both of you were laughing.

“You know what!” He grabbed a brush and started whipping paint at you too. You two started to battle with paintbrushes. The different color droplets started to spray everywhere.

“Ah! Jinnie!” You grabbed a glob of blue acrylic paint and whipped it at him, he retaliated by grabbing yellow paint. At some point you two were chasing after each other.

“Get back here!” Jinnie said, you turned around and saw he was right behind you. You yelped and started to run backwards right into the lake. Jinnie started laughing at you now that you were soaked. But when he skidded at the edge of the lake, he slipped on the mud. His body landed right next to yours with a splash. His head peaked out of the water, his hair everywhere. The water droplets mixing with the paint that stained his face. You didn’t know how he could look more beautiful.

“Look who’s laughing now.” You teased him. His large hand splashed water at you. You gasped and splashed water back at him. You both eventually stood up still splashing water at each other. You started to try and wade away from him, still laughing. You made it out of the water and kept running.

“Y/nnnnn!” He whined, you turned around and taunted him. You closed your eyes and stuck your tongue out. Before you knew it, he was dragging you back into the lake. You were yelping and laughing.

“Jiiiinniee!”

SPLASH

When you opened your eyes, you saw he was right on top of you, “whoops I fell in too.”

“You schmo!” You laughed, closing your eyes again, and tilted your head back, letting the lake soak your hair.

“Schmo?!” He grabbed your shoulders and lightly shook you, your giggles escaping you. When you opened your eyes again your hair was partially blocking your view. But once again you were met with his eyes staring back at you with that far off look he had earlier. Jinnie smiled at you like you were a warm cup of coffee on the coldest day of the year. His hand, still dripping with the lake water brushed your hair out of your eyes.

“Beau brin de fille (beautiful girl).” Jinnie whispered under his breath.

“Where did you learn that?” You whispered back, his hand cupped your cheek.

“Picked up stuff from Gram.” His eyes never left yours, “she wanted me to know how to compliment you, to woo you per say... I intend to do so. Is it working?”

“Oui.” You grinned at him and tilted your head back again, partially because you didn’t want him to see your flustered face. Your face burned when you felt his soft lips touch your cheek; your breath hitched, and you looked up at him.

“Was that too much?” He asked his voice wavering slightly, one of his hands still held onto your waist and to the side of your face.

“It wasn’t enough.” You put your hands on his cheeks and kissed him. He jumped a bit before quickly melting into your touch.

~+~

“I think that this piece is better than any of my landscapes.”

You looked at the painting you created which was now hung on his wall, “you helped create it.”

“The paint splatters really do add to the landscape, don’t they?” Jinnie placed his hands on your waist, “definitely my favorite birthday present, this year.”

“I’m glad this birthday was good for you.” You grinned up at him and tackled him into a hug. He started laughing.

“You made it better.” He kissed your forehead.

“Walk with me to school tomorrow?” You questioned.

“Mmmm I’d have to check my schedule… I think I only have a rose bush to nurture with a gorgeous girl in the afternoon… Yeah, I can fit you in for a walk in the morning.”

~+~

The next few weeks were peaceful, you and Jinnie’s routine became a part of your lives. He started to sleep over often, and you would sleep over at his home frequently as well. Your favorite thing to do with him was cook, sometimes he would sway with you while the pasta boiled. He would softly spin you while the bread needed to rise. Jinnie was a dream come true in your world. Your heart never felt so safe with anyone before. Life was simple and you two cherished that. The way he would look at you with love and adoration in his eyes is something you will always cherish.

Now you were painting in the living room of his home, he was picking up groceries so you two could bake together for Gram. You bit the end of the wood on your paintbrush, a sick habit you have developed over time. One Jinnie would giggle at.

“My intended I’m home!” He called from the door, you quickly hopped up and followed his voice. There he was in all his glory, with his basket overflowing with groceries. You grinned and practically jumped in his arms. Jinnie yelped and then returned your giggles.

“Miss me?”

“Always.” You pulled away and led him to his kitchen. You helped him put away groceries and started to set up for the now weekly bread. Gram was very happy about this.

“Oh, I also picked something up from the back of the market.” Jinnie sprung up and walked back outside, the way he sauntered always made you smile. He made you smile, especially when he came back from outside with this giant box.

“This guy at the back of the market was selling things, and I noticed on your bookshelf you have a lot of old golden spine books at the top of your shelf.” He spoke excitedly, you honestly forgot about those old children’s books at the top, your main priority now was the old art books. Jinnie set the box on the counter, “the guy I think said that he had no idea if it still works, but! Even if it doesn’t maybe you could take the cases and make a collage.”

You opened up the big box and saw a ton of old VHS tapes, with a player to watch them. You saw old films from the 90s that ranged from The Titanic to old Disney Princess movies. Your eyes lit up, before you left home you had an obsession with movies of any kind. Your obsession slowed down when you moved here.

“Jinnie what about a TV?” You looked up, questioning him.

He gave you a toothy grin, “when I first bought this house he mentioned a REALLY old TV in the attic. If it doesn’t work, we can just take a trip to the next town over.”

Once again, your eyes lit up, “Jinnie!” You hugged him again and he smiled into your neck.

“I figured it would be nice to watch movies other than art documentaries in class, not that I don’t love them.” He mumbled, still holding onto you as if you would disappear any minute, “I also picked something else up.” He pulled away from you and pulled something out of his pocket, it was a small gold necklace, with a rose adorned on the front.

“Jinnie...!” Your breath hitched.

He spun you around and placed the necklace on you, “he was also selling antique jewelry, he discounted it for me. It reminds me of the rosebush that’s now blooming outside of my house. All because of you.”

You turned around and hugged him tightly. Hwang Hyunjin was everything you wanted in a man.

“You’re so thoughtful.” You pulled away from him, looking at him with stars, “we can set the movie night tonight and thank you so much for the necklace! Now! Gram has some bread to be made!”

Jinnie nodded with the same dreamy look and you two started baking up a storm. Gram was very happy seeing you two spend so much time together. You noticed how overtime Jinnie really did pay so close attention to her stories. He loved them, especially the love stories. Part of him didn’t seem read to you. When you two parted ways from Gram she gave you and Jinnie a hug and you two walked back across the street.

“You seem to pay more attention to me than Gram now.” He teased, opening his door. You huffed as he let you in first.

“I can’t help it, you’re cute when you’re enthralled in something.” You spun around.

Jinnie chuckled, “I’ll set everything up, do you want to maaaaybe plate some fruit and bread for us pleaaaase.”

“Didn’t you just have my pumpkin bread at Grams?” Your eyes teased him. Jinnie whined and you quickly gave in. You skipped into the kitchen and started to make a snack, it was getting late and you assumed you were sleeping here so you sidetracked into his room. Looking around you found your set of pajamas that you kept at his home. Then you skipped back into the kitchen and finished plating your guy’s food. From the room you heard him curse slightly, you walked in and set the plates on the coffee table. Squatting by him you softly rubbed his back.

“Want tea too?”

Jinnie nodded, his brows furrowed. You could tell he was determined to make this movie night work. It was something you really loved about him; he would try. You were never used to men like this growing up. You happily started the kettle and made tea.

“MY DEAREST INTENDED!” He started running into the kitchen, “I did it! I did it!”

~+~

“Are you sure you want to go through the chest?” He asked as you knelt at the foot of your bed, you took a deep breath and nodded.

“I think it’s time, plus I might’ve stole a couple photo albums, you’ll get to see baby me.”

Jinnie grinned at this and you unlocked the big trunk, it was like how you left it two years ago, almost three. You had an old sweater, joggers, your backpack, laptop, phone, everything.

“Woah.” Jinnie said and started digging through the trunk of stuff. He was really looking for the small photo albums. You took out your phone and laptop, tossing them aside.

“I totally forgot I packed this.” You giggled as you picked up a copy of The Shining.

“Are you a Stephen King fan?” He mumbled, still looking for the photos of your past. You hummed.

“I was, then I read IT and got weirded out.”

You heard Jinnie laugh, then he pulled out something from your backpack, “a Taylor Swift CD?”

“I WAS LIKE 19!” You retorted; he started giggling more.

“I prefer Lana Del Rey, but I can enjoy Taylor Swift.” He teased you, then he finally found what he was looking for. The small old photo albums.

Your body curled up next to him as you pointed out various family members, he listened intently. You thought going through this old trunk was going to be horrible, but with Jinnie, it wasn’t. He asked questions about your family and you happily answered them laughing or with stories that were stored in your memories. You even got reminded of some stuff. If something sparked a story in Jinnie he would tell it to you as well.

“You’d love my mom.” Jinnie said and giggled at your baby photos.

“I think my mom would love you, my dad is hard to win over though.”

Jinnie chuckled then looked at you with a serious look, “do you think we will ever see them again? Or even get to meet them?”

“God, I hope so…” Your voice was quiet. You wanted so badly to introduce Hyunjin to your parents. You know they would love him and be so happy for you. He is everything your parents wanted for you. Respectful, smart, charming, they have always wanted that for you. Now that you have it, you want them so badly to see you this happy. They would be proud of you.

“I think we will get to meet each other’s families.” Jinnie spoke suddenly. You looked at him.

“You think?” Now you were fully pulled out of your thoughts.

Jinnie nodded, his hair falling in front of his eyes, which you pushed softly away.

“I know we will get to. You are my intended after all.”

~+~

You ended up being right about Mr. W scouting Jinnie for the next exhibit in Paris.

“Jinnie you have to except it.” You paced back and forth, your feet pittering and pattering on the old wood.

“Y/n I don’t know. Don’t you think that’ll bring too much attention to me?” You two were currently talking about whether or not he should take it. At this point the semester was nearly over, and that means the Paris trip would be soon. You knelt by him on the couch.

“You could always do a fake name… Maybe cover your face…” You looked up at him, “Jinnie this is really big for your art.”

He looked conflicted, “if that doesn’t work then what am I going to do? Go back and leave you here? I can’t do that…”

“You’re worried about having to leave me?” You leaned your head on his knee, he caressed your cheek. His fingers drifted to the necklace he gave you weeks ago. You seemed to only take it off while you bathed. Not that he paid attention to that or anything.

“Of course, I am, I know I wouldn’t have a choice if I was found out.”

“Hyunjin…” You stood up and sat next to him, his hair had grown out more and he had the same scared dog look to him again. Just like he did when you first met him.

“Y/n, I don’t know what I would do, I know I sound crazy and I know it hasn’t been that long, I know I wear my heart on my sleeve and I know I romanticize every little thing, I can’t just- I-“

You put your hand in his, “it’s okay Jinnie. We aren’t at that yet, and that might not even happen.”

He nodded and took a deep breath, “I’ll explain my situation to Mr. W. Tell him my conditions and then we will go from there.”

Your lips curved into a smile, and you kissed his cheek, “I’m so proud of you, Hyunjin, even if you decide not to go.”

Jinnie looked at you and he looked more relaxed, he squeezed your hand, “I love you so much.”

You had to force your brain to not make your tears flow, “I love you more.”

“I’ll talk to him tomorrow after class,” he stood up, “I want you to come with me if I go to Paris.”

Jinnie pulled you with him, your body crashed into his and he held you.

“You do?” Your eyes loved the sight of him.

“I do.” He lifted both of your hands on his shoulders and put his on your waist, “I know you have work but-“

“I want to go with you, I want to support you. I’d go anywhere with you.”

Jinnie smiled warmly at you, “I’ll have to hold you to that.”

“You still have to sing to me.” Your eyes playfully narrowed at him, he huffed and swayed you two.

“I sing to you all the time, it’s not my fault you’re always already asleep.” He gave you a funny look back. You pretended to be offended.

“No fair! Sing me to sleep tonight!” You said, he giggled and spun you. You ended up crashing into him.

“Say please my intended.”

You looked up at him, “please sing me to sleep tonight.”

Jinnie kissed you softly, you kissed him back and whined a bit when he pulled away, “as you wish.”

~+~

The next morning on the walk to school Jinnie really took in his surroundings like it would be the last time to. It really scared you. He wouldn’t get out of bed until you two absolutely had to. He wouldn’t let go of you while you cooked breakfast, and he wanted you to stay in the kitchen when he prepped your guys’ lunch.

“Jinnie are you okay?” You noticed how he really was looking at the sunrise on the hill. He looked at you and sighed.

“I’m just preparing for the worst.”

You were worried about him, “Jinnie, I know what I said but if you really don’t want to do this-“

“My love, I’ve always wanted to have my art in an exhibit, and- and you’re right. I need to at least try. Maybe he won’t even care that I want to go by another name. That’s pretty normal for artists.”

“That is true…” You nodded and mumbled, “but what if he looks up your legal name?”

“I don’t think he will.” Jinnie said, “at least I really hope not.”

When you two finally made it to school you noticed how he didn’t let go of your hand. Usually he would, you both decided to only tell Gram about your relationship.

“It’ll be okay Hyunjin…” You said to him, he nodded and walked into class first, finally letting go. You quickly followed after him. The whole time you could tell he wasn’t paying attention, his leg would bounce, and his brush would shake before it hit the canvas. It really hurt your heart to see him like this. You didn’t know what to do about this. He wanted this but his past life was still holding him hostage. No matter what though, you were determined to be there for him.

~+~

masterlist

~+~

taglist: @alyszaen @moon-on-a-golden-thread @hwgyun @forevrglow

comment or send in an ask to be added to the taglist <3 it's open!

if i ever forget any tags please remind me, i have goldfish memory.

~+~

author's note-

i wanted to get this out now because it has been rough the past few days and its been hard to write. my dog is really sick rn and he is very old so i am very worried.

i hope everyone is okay

i love you and drink water.

20 notes · View notes